Unlikely Saviour
by onceuponapage
Summary: When Hermione Granger finds herself being tortured on the floor of Malfoy Manor, a reprieve from the pain comes from an unlikely source. Why did Draco Malfoy stop his aunt? And why can't Hermione get a certain pair of grey eyes off of her mind?
1. Chapter 1

' _Stop!'_

The pain suddenly recedes, and Hermione's shrieks cut off to be replaced with shocked silence. Hermione assumed that she had been in such intense agony that she had imagined the plea, but as she peels back her heavy eyelids, crusted with the tears that had streamed down her face, she raises her eyes to find a look of angry confusion on the face of her torturer.

Flicking her gaze to _him_ , Hermione finds his usual mask of indifference replaced with terror, his icy grey eyes glimmering with concern.

'I must have misheard you, nephew,' Bellatrix's voice grates out, 'but it sounded, _just for a moment_ , that you told me to stop.'

Hermione watches with confusion as Draco Malfoy's eyes turn away from her cowering form to his aunt. His mouth twitches, as if to say something, but he keeps silent, his face returning to the emotionless front he usually maintains, but Hermione notices the tight grip he holds on his wand, his knuckles whitening.

'Answer me!' screams Bellatrix, her wand turning to the young blonde across the room. He flinches but remains silent.

'Bellatrix, turn your wand away from my son,' demands Narcissa in a deadly calm voice, eyeing down her sister.

Bellatrix's wand slowly lowers, a sadistic grin on her face. 'Fine, if the young Draco has no further problem, I'll continue my interrogation of the Mudblood.' Her wand turns back towards Hermione, ' _cruci_ -'

' _Expelliarmus_!'

Hermione's heart leaps in her chest as she sees the tell-tale red hair of Ron Weasley racing out of the dungeons, followed closely by Harry Potter, who fires a quick _stupefy_ at Lucius, who had remained silent until that point. His body is sent across the room, crumpling to the floor a few feet away, where it remains still. Curses are quickly exchanged, hexes rapidly thrown between the remaining people and Hermione's mind struggles to keep up with it all. She watches as Ron throws a well-aimed _sectumsempra_ towards Draco, who casts a _protego_ a second too late and scarlet blooms across his chest. Mixed emotions greet the sight. This is Draco Malfoy, her school tormentor and current Death Eater, and Hermione should be relieved that he has been taken down. But as he drops to his knees in agony, she can't stop the gargled scream that erupts from her throat. After all, he tried to save her. He stopped his aunt.

Ron turns his confused expression on her and worry is evident on his face. He raises his wand towards her and for a moment Hermione thinks he is going to attack her, until she feels the all-to-familiar touch of the cold metal of Bellatrix's dagger against her throat.

'Drop your wands!' screams Bellatrix, and after only a moment's hesitation, both Harry and Ron drop their wands to the floor. 'Pick them up, Draco.'

Draco's panicked expression flickers to Hermione before he complies, scooping up the wands and returning to his mother's side. Narcissa quickly seals the wounds on his chest, but the blood still stains his torn shirt.

Hermione turns her attention back to her two best friends, watching as the stinging jinx she had cast on Harry moments before they were captured fades, revealing his easily recognisable features.

Bellatrix giggles cruelly. 'Oh, look what we have here. Harry Potter, all pretty again.' She puts more pressure on the knife and Hermione feels blood well to the spot, a drop dripping down her collar bones. 'How nice of you to join us, although I'm a bit upset that you interrupted my fun.' Hermione can imagine the childish pout that probably crosses Bellatrix's face. 'Oh well, when the Dark Lord gets here, I'm sure he'll let me have as much fun as I want with you. Call him.'

Lucius walks across the room, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm to reveal his Dark Mark. He raises his right hand over the mark and Hermione can feel the hopelessness crush down on her.

This is it.

As soon as he calls Voldemort to the Manor, they'll kill Harry, and almost certainly her and Ron too, although not before torturing them to within an each of their lives first. And then what? Who else knows about the Horcruxes? Who else can take away Voldemort's immortality?

Just as the last ounce of hope attempts to drain out of her tired body, Hermione glances up and scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. She must be more tired than she thought, because it almost looks like Dobby is sat on top of the majestic chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Wait, Dobby _is_ sat on top the majestic chandelier dangling from the ceiling, and judging by the faint squeaking noise reaching Hermione's ears, he's about to drop it right on top of them.

Lucius halts in his action, turning his head towards the noise and everyone follows suit. With a shriek, Bellatrix pushes Hermione away from her and dives across the room, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the weight of the decorative light. Hermione is caught by a pair of strong arms, and looks up to meet kind blue eyes. She hastily pulls herself properly to her feet, watching in shock as Dobby effectively disarms Narcissa. Draco and Harry grapple momentarily in the corner, before Harry secures their wands and returns to the group.

Hermione feels Ron and Harry take a hand each, as the small group begin to make their escape, and as the familiar feeling of apparition washes over her, her gaze falls for a final time to meet icy grey eyes as they watch her disappear.

..

Draco watches as Hermione and her group disappear to an unknown destination. Silence follows their escape, apart from the soft clang as the dagger his deranged aunt had thrown at the last minute collides with the railing of the staircase to the dungeons, and all Draco can do is berate himself for getting involved. Why did he have to say something? Why did he have to try and help her? She means nothing to him. He doesn't even know her aside from their years of arguing at Hogwarts. But something about seeing her on the floor, writhing in agony at the hands of his aunt had done something to him, stolen the last smidge of his innocence.

And he'd snapped. He couldn't bear to see the proud and annoyingly brave Hermione Granger broken on the floor of his Manor. She was an insufferable know-it-all but he'd been on the receiving end of one or two of his aunt's Cruciatus curses and couldn't stand the idea of it being used on her.

But now he had royally fucked things up. He can almost feel his aunt's anger radiating off of her in waves of malevolent heat. A strangled screech emits from her throat, deafeningly loud. She turns her attention on him and Draco flinches at the fury in her eyes.

' _CRUCIO_!'

Draco's body crumples to the floor, spasming in pain. It feels like his blood is turning to acid, every breath pulling mouthful of broken glass into his lungs, his skin on fire. He clenches his jaw together, determined not to give her the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

'Bellatrix, stop!' yells his mother, pulling at her sister's arm in vain.

'It's your fault, boy!' he vaguely hears Bellatrix yelling at him. 'You let them out, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?'

If possible, the curse tearing through his body strengthens and he wails, shaking his head 'no'.

'Don't lie to me! You let them out because you feel sorry for them, you feel sorry for the Mudblood!'

'No!' Draco yells. He wishes she would kill him. Anything but this agony.

'Bellatrix, that is enough.' It surprises Draco as he hears his father's voice standing up for him. Immediately, the throbbing ceases, and Draco raises his eyes to see Lucius standing over Bellatrix, his wand pointed at her. Draco would do anything to have his own wand with him, but that stupid Potter had taken it when he had reclaimed their own.

'I'm sure the Dark Lord will be interested to hear where your loyalties lie, Lucius,' Bellatrix states in a deathly calm voice, before turning on her heels and stalking out of the room, the clicking of her heels echoing loudly through the hall.

'Draco,' whispers his mother as she falls to the floor beside him, lifting his head to rest in her lap. He tries to pull away but his aching body protests and he succumbs to his mother's attentions. Lucius leaves the room without another word. 'Blinky.'

As soon as the word leaves his mother's lips, a smallish house elf pops into the room. 'Yes, what does the Mistress require?'

'Take Draco to his room and ensure that no one bothers him.'

'Yes, Mistress Malfoy,' replies the house elf, bowing deeply, before taking Draco's arm and apparating them both to Draco's room in the Manor. Blinky takes in Draco's motionless form and with a click, levitates him into the bed. Exhaustion creeps up on him, and at the welcome warmth of his bed, Draco closes his eyes. No doubt the Dark Lord will have more than one word to say to him when he returns from his travels. He should be well rested if he's going to have to put an appearance before the Dark Lord. With that thought, he willingly crosses the thin line separating consciousness from sleep.

..

If it weren't for Ron's steady grip on her arms, Hermione would have fallen onto her knees as the sand met her feet. Relief hits her strongly. They made it out. But even as that emotion settles, a small part of Hermione feels regret. Maybe they shouldn't have left Draco. He hadn't identified Harry to his family, even though he almost certainly recognised him, despite the stinging jinx. And he had stopped Bellatrix from torturing Hermione. Maybe he was defecting?

Hermione shakes her head. No. Draco Malfoy would not switch sides. Maybe he really just hadn't recognised Harry. He probably interrupted his aunt to ask if he could have a turn at torturing her. He certainly didn't hold back in attacking Harry and Ron when they joined the fight.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Hermione glances around. The small group is standing on a deserted beach, a small cottage a few feet away. Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur's house. Quickly making sure that everyone else made it out unscathed, Hermione releases the breath that she didn't realise she had been holding. Pulling herself out of Ron's hold – much to his evident dismay – she properly evaluates the group. The Golden Trio, a house elf and a goblin. Hermione recognises the goblin as Griphook, a Gringotts worker. 'Hermione, are you okay?' Ron's worried eyes search Hermione's face as she nods.

'I'm fine.'

'No, you're not,' says Harry, grabbing her hand to raise her arm, where blood is still running from the wound Bellatrix had caused. 'Mudblood' stands angry and red on her skin.

Ron visibly tenses and Hermione struggles to repress the tears that rise to her eyes. Harry begins muttering healing spells, his wand hovering above the wound, but nothing clears the derogatory word from her arm. 'I- I think the dagger was cursed,' Hermione mutters, the tears falling freely from her eyes now. It seemed so stupid to be getting upset over something as insignificant as a scar, but the idea that she was now permanently branded because of her blood status hurt Hermione. There was no escaping her parentage now. Not that Hermione felt ashamed to be muggle-born. She loved her parents and always would. If she could ever find her parents after this stupid war and manage to reverse the memory charms she had placed on them.

The thought of her parents causes the tears to flow harder and a small sob escapes her lips. Ron wordlessly wraps his arms her, easily enveloping her smaller form in his larger one protectively. Hermione gives in to the emotions pouring out of her, openly blubbing into his shoulder. He feels Harry stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

After what feels like an eternity, the final few tears taper off and Hermione pulls herself from Ron's embrace, sniffling. At some point, Griphook and Dobby had left the beach and entered the cottage and were probably being seen to by Bill and Fleur. With a deep breath, Hermione forces a smile onto her face.

'Thank you,' she whispers.

'We're so sorry we couldn't get to you sooner, 'Mione,' says Ron. 'We heard you screaming, we had to get Luna and Ollivander out.'

Hermione's head snapped up. 'Luna?'

As if having heard her name, the bubbly blonde bounces out of the cottage. 'Hermione!' she announces happily, skipping into Hermione's arms. 'I'm so glad to see you're okay!'

Hermione looks at her in disbelief. 'You too! What happened?'

'Well, after the Death Eaters took me, they left me at Malfoy Manor, where I found Mr Ollivander, and then Harry and Ron showed up, and Harry took a bit of mirror out of his sock – that's still a strange place to keep a mirror, if you ask me – and then Dobby showed up and took me here!' she explains in one breath, smiling airily the entire time. 'But I didn't know what had happened to you. But now you're here!' The younger witch smiles brightly, hugging Hermione again, who hugs her back fiercely, genuinely happy to find her safe. 'Anyway, Fleur says she's going to sort some food out, and I don't know about you, but I'm famished!' Luna states casually, as if they hadn't all just narrowly escaped death.

Without another word, Luna skips happily back into the cottage, as naturally as if she'd spent her entire life there.

'I'll never understand that girl,' mutters Ron under his breath, causing Hermione and Harry to smile.

'A lit bit of loopy never hurt anyone,' says Hermione, finding it easier and easier to breath after the events of the day, deciding not to dwell on darker thoughts for a while. Her stomach rumbles suddenly, and the trio laugh. 'Maybe food isn't such a bad idea after all.'

Harry and Ron nod their agreement and Hermione follows them in, pushing all thoughts of a certain pair of grey eyes to the back of her mind.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Okay, so this is my first attempt at a fanfiction, I hope you like it. Please leave a review!


	2. Chapter 2

Draco groggily opens his eyes to the sound of loud knocking on his door. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he realises it's six in the afternoon, and he'd been asleep for a few hours. Stretching, he pulls himself out of his bed, realising he's still dressed in his ripped up clothing from earlier. As the memories of the day return to him, he sighs in defeat. Quickly changing his clothes, he fully expects to open the door to the Dark Lord himself, so is mildly surprised to find the face of Severus Snape glaring at him.

'What the bloody hell are you doing here?' Draco asks, eyeing his professor. 'Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?'

'You mother sent me a Patronus. She's worried about you.'

'What else is new?' Draco asks, a scowl on his face.

Snape's expression remains unchanged. 'She told me you helped the Potter and his friends. Is this true?'

'No.'

'Then why did you interrupt your aunt?'

Draco pauses. 'I- I don't know.' He criticises himself for his lack of a better response. Suddenly he feels someone in his mind. He instantly puts up his mental shields and a small smile crosses Snape's lips.

'At least you're powerful at Occlumency. You'll need it if the Dark Lord has any suspicions against you.'

Draco's jaw clenches. 'I have nothing to hide, Severus. If poking around my mind was all you came for, I'm going back to sleep.'

Before Draco can close the door, Snape enters the room and Draco holds back the huff that tries to escape. How dare someone enter his room uninvited? It would be different if it was a sexy little witch paying him a surprise visit. Draco shudders as the thought of Snape in lingerie crosses his mind.

'Where do your loyalties lie, Draco?' asks Snape, turning to face him in the middle of the room, having wordlessly put up silencing spells and wards against trespassers.

'To the Dark Lord,' Draco responds without pausing. Honestly this interrogation was already boring him.

'Then why did you protect Miss Granger?'

'I already told you I don't know, god damn it!' Draco growls, his anger getting the better of his usual calm façade. 'It was an instinct!'

'Well it is an instinct you had best suppress in the future, if you plan to survive this war,' warns Snape, turning the full force of his glare on the younger wizard. Draco doesn't answer, refusing to dignify Snape with a response. Without another word, the Professor turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, leaving Draco angry. He'll deal with the Dark Lord when he returns. Like he said, he has nothing to hide. He hopes.

..

'Her vault?' repeats Ron, still confused.

'Yes, Ronald, her vault,' replies Hermione, exasperated. 'She kept asking me how I got into her vault.'

'But why her vault?'

'If I knew that I would bloody-well tell you, wouldn't I!' snaps Hermione. It felt like they had been having the same conversation for hours. After the group had eaten their fair share of food, the conversation had turned to what had occurred at the Manor. Hermione felt awkward describing how Malfoy had stopped his aunt. Nobody could come up with a decent motive, so the conversation had moved on to what Bellatrix had wanted from Hermione.

'Sorry, 'Mione,' Ron says sheepishly. Harry was yet to enter himself into the conversation, clearly deep in thought.

'Well, it's obvious, isn't it?' asks Luna in her tinkling voice. Everyone turns her way, no one in the mood to put up with her babbling. 'She's hiding something there.'

Hermione rolls her eyes, and Harry politely says, 'we can guess that, Luna.'

'So, you just have to ask yourself, what would be worth hiding?'

'Luna that's-'

'-brilliant!' exclaims Harry, looking excitedly at Hermione and Ron. 'Please excuse us,' he says to the other occupants of the room. With that, he quickly exits, waiting outside the door for Hermione and Ron to join them. With a quick look at each other, the two push themselves off of the sofa and join Harry, following him down the corridor to his own room.

'Care to explain, mate?' asks Ron whilst Hermione casts a silencing charm on the room.

'I think Bellatrix has a Horcrux in her vault,' Harry states simply.

'That's great, Harry, but even if she does, we have no way of getting in there. It would be a lot better for us if there wasn't one in there,' informs Hermione, taking a seat on his bed.

'We can't just ignore it! If there's a Horcrux there, we have to destroy it,' says Harry determinedly. 'Besides, if we can convince Griphook to help us, we might stand a chance.'

Hermione sighs. 'Even if we could somehow convince Griphook to risk his life getting us into Gringotts, he's not about to do it for free, Harry; that's not how goblins work.'

Harry takes a seat next to Hermione on the bed, seeing her point.

'Come on guys, we've come this far. We're not going to let a grumpy goblin get in the way, are we?' asks Ron. 'We have to do this.'

..

Terror is an emotion that does not come often to Draco Malfoy. But standing in front of the Dark Lord brings out a deep fear in the Slytherin, one that takes all of his well-rehearsed control to hide.

'Draco, my dear boy, what a pleasure to see you again.' Voldemort's snakelike voice slithers over Draco's skin, making him shudder. 'But I admit that I find myself confused. Can you guess why?'

Draco doesn't respond.

'It's rude to ignore your guest, Draco. I asked if you could guess why I am confused.' The wizard's calm façade doesn't trick Draco, who can see the anger buried just beneath the surface.

'I don't know, my Lord.'

'Then let me elucidate here. I return from my travels to find out that none other than Harry Potter has been in the very Manor that my most loyal Death Eaters inhabit, and yet I return to find him gone. Not only that, but also that my most promising follower interrupted the torture of Potter's Mudblood friend, apparently without a reason. Do you now know why I am confused?' Voldemort's eyes roam the boy in front of him, taking in his motionless state. 'But of course, I knew that you must have an explanation, mustn't you?'

'It was just a mistake,' Draco replies in an emotionless voice.

'Ah, a mistake. I suppose those do happen. You are free to go.' Draco turns to leave, reaching the door before hearing Voldemort address him again. 'But, Draco? Do be careful, my boy. Mistakes can be… deadly, sometimes.' The unsaid threat hangs heavily in the air, and Draco takes a moment to compose himself before leaving the company of the Dark Lord.

As he walks down the halls of the Manor, intent on reaching the kitchen for a snack, a certain bushy-haired witch plagues his thoughts. Why did he help her? Despite all of his best efforts to ignore it, the question kept popping up in his mind. Because there was only one answer. Clearly he'd finally lost his mind. Why else would he help the muggle-born he'd been raised to hate? The muggle-born he _did_ hate.

Except that's not really true, Draco realises with a jolt. Yes, it was infuriating how she always bested him in school. Yes, her quick wit in arguments often left him speechless, a state that Draco is not comfortable in. Yes, she hangs out with the dunderhead duo. And yes, she is on the opposite side of the upcoming war. But no, he does not hate her. And that realisation cripples Draco. Because if he doesn't hate her, then what does he feel for her?

Draco shakes his head, attempting to derail his train of thoughts. If the Dark Lord entered his mind now, it would be grounds for a death sentence. Stupid Granger and her stupid friends.

Taking a turn into the kitchen, Draco is immediately mobbed by a swarm of house elves, and a chorus of 'what can we do for Master?'

Sighing, Draco heads towards one of the cupboards, where he is intercepted by Blinky, looking up with her wide golf-ball eyes. 'Blinky can help Master Draco, Master Draco should take a seat, he might still be tired.'

'I'm always tired, Blinky, but I just want to help myself to a snack.'

'Blinky can get Master Draco a snack, yes she can.' With that, the small creature ushers Draco into a seat by the small kitchen table, immediately returning to the cupboards, where she quickly makes a variety of sandwiches, as well as a selection of different crisps.

Draco sighs again. 'This is unnecessary, Blinky, I could have just made myself a sandwich.'

'Blinky is here to serves Master Draco. Blinky likes serving Master Draco.' Draco can't supress the small smile that graces his lips. What is happening to him? First he tries to protect a muggle-born and now he's smiling at house elves. What next? Helping Looney Lovegood find some Nargles? Maybe Draco really is losing his mind.

..

'This is bloody mental.'

After days of planning and re-planning and scrapping the plans, only to return to the original plans, Hermione now stands looking at the confused face of Bellatrix Lestrange greeting her in the mirror. It was purely luck that a strand of the witch's black locks had caught itself on Hermione's button whilst she had been carving into her skin. And after a disgusting dose of polyjuice potion, Hermione is ready to attempt to enter Bellatrix's vault. She finds herself agreeing with Ron's sentiment. This really is bloody mental.

Turning to face her friend, Hermione raises her eyes to Ron. 'Ron, do you want to transfigure yourself, or do you want me to do it?'

Ron looks around sheepishly. 'Maybe you should do it, 'Mione, it'll probably last longer.'

Hermione nods, awkwardly stepping closer to Ron, raising her wand. Muttering the incantation, she watches as his signature red hair darkens to a dull brown, his blue eyes shifting to match, and a large amount of facial hair growing to cover the rest of his features. Hermione absently notes that Ron suits a beard.

Things have been awkward between the two friends for a while. Unresolved sexual tension has resulted in more than a few spiteful arguments and more awkwardness than either can handle. Hermione has been trying to push her crush on Ron to the side, focussing on the war efforts, but spending so much time in confined spaces with him has been taking a toll on her.

'Do you have your invisibility cloak, Harry?' Hermione asks, turning away from Ron to hide her blush.

Harry nods, lifting his right arm where the cloak is draped across. After eventually convincing Griphook to assist them breaking into Gringotts, the trio were feeling a little bit more confident with their plan. But only slightly.

The three knew that this could possibly be a suicide run. If they are caught, there's no way they could escape the Dark Lord a second time.

Hermione had been trying not to think about her time at the Manor, but it haunted her nightmares endlessly, and she often woke up covered in sweat, her duvet twisted between her thrashing legs. A couple of times she had awoken to Ron comforting her, but it did little to keep the terror at bay. She was grateful for his attempts, nonetheless.

Ron seemed to be getting better by the day. After months of hiding in tents, desperate to hear from his family, he took a lot of reassurance in Bill's information that everyone was safe.

Harry, on the other hand, spent most of his time alone, planning. Hermione often heard him scream in the night too, and didn't want to know what sort of horrors could turn such a brave man to a shrieking mess. The war really was taking a toll on everyone, and it had only just begun.

Sighing at her melancholy thoughts, Hermione took one final scan of herself in the mirror, trying to bulk up her courage. She could do this. She _would_ do this. She wasn't the brightest witch of her age of nothing. Smiling slightly, finding the action odd on the face of Bellatrix, as if the muscles were unused, she turned back to her friends. 'Let's do this.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Thanks to everyone who has followed and favourited this story so far! I'm glad that some of you like what I'm writing. :) Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. I have proof-read it, but I often miss errors, so if you see any, just let me know and I'll edit it. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

'Why do I have to come with you?' Draco complains for the hundredth time, trying to keep the whiny edge out of his voice. Malfoys don't whine. But Malfoys also don't want to accompany their dad to Gringotts on a Saturday, a day where Draco had plans to do nothing and lounge around.

'Because I said so. Stop complaining.' Ah, the famous "because I said so". The most annoying reason a parent can give. Ever.

Draco huffs again. He did not plan on spending his morning surrounded by those creepy goblins.

Draco walks slightly behind his father in silence as they head towards the edge of the Manor. Like Hogwarts, the Manor has anti-apparition wards preventing people from apparating in or out of the Manor. Unfortunately the magic clearly didn't apply to that stupid house elf. To say that Draco had been surprised when his old family house elf had appeared quite suddenly to rescue Potter and his friends would be an understatement. The fact that the elf had then proceeded to giving a speech about being a free elf had left him speechless. And contemplative.

Draco had never really considered how house elves felt about serving people. Most of their house elves, especially Blinky, seemed to relish being a slave. But clearly that wasn't the case for them all. How many elves want to be free like Dobby?

Draco shakes his head. Why does he care? They're just slaves. Creatures that are below him. He doesn't care about their rights.

Reaching the end of the gate, Lucius lifts his arm and Draco grudgingly takes a hold of it, feeling the familiar pull of side-along apparition. His feet land firmly on the ground and Draco instantly takes a step back, separating himself from his father.

Lucius was a man that Draco had looked up to as a kid, adored him even, but after seeing him act to spinelessly in front of the Dark Lord, it was hard to maintain such respect. Draco couldn't help but blame Lucius for dragging him so deeply into the Dark Lord's plans. It had nearly got him killed after he had failed to kill that old oath Dumbledore. He had him wandless and at his mercy, but when it came down to it, Draco just couldn't kill him. He'd done nothing wrong.

So lost in his thoughts, Draco didn't register the commotion coming from the wizarding bank until he was right outside of the doors. His father strides into the building as if he owns the place, dragging aside a goblin that was hurrying past, holding his wand in front of him threateningly. 'What is going on?' he demands of the creature.

The goblin sneers at the elder Malfoy, clearly not appreciating being manhandled. Draco was mildly impressed by the action. Most wizards and creatures cower at the mention of the Malfoy name, let alone being addressed by one personally.

'Why should I tell you?'

Lucius practically snarls. 'Because I am Lucius Malfoy, server of the Dark Lord and I demand that you answer me.'

The goblin pauses, clearly weighing up what his rate of survival would be if he refused. Obviously he decides the odds aren't in his favour, as he grudgingly admits, 'Harry Potter and his friends have broken into Gringotts.'

Lucius practically throws the creature away from him, running down the corridor, following the sounds of explosions. Goblins yell at him that he can't go that way, but seem to know better than to stop him by force. Draco sighs, walking after his father. The idea of meeting the trio again so soon has his heart pumping, and an unwelcome image of Hermione enters his mind. Why his obsession with the bushy-haired witch has started so suddenly, he doesn't know. Except, if he thinks about it, maybe his obsession with her wasn't so sudden.

At school he always made an effort to verbally spar with her more often. It gave him great pleasure to wind her up. Of course, infuriating Potty and Weasel was always something Draco enjoyed, but he always got more of a kick when he could get under Granger's skin.

And though it pained him endlessly to admit it, she had looked mesmerising at the Yule Ball. For a muggle-born, of course.

Draco loses his train of thought as he catches up to his father, who is shooting spells at- is that dragon? Cool. He ducks behind a pillar as a spell he assumes one of the Golden Trio shoots fires past him.

'Call the Dark Lord! Potter's not getting away this time!'

His father's voice somehow carries across the frenzy, and Draco looks up, understanding. He pauses. If he calls the Dark Lord, this really will be the end of Potter and his friends. Is that what Draco wants? Sure, he's a pain in the ass, and Weasley he could do without, but does he really want them dead?

Clearly he paused too long for his father, who pulls up his own sleeve, ignoring the chaos surrounding him, and presses his wand to the spot. The mark darkens and slithers grotesquely and Draco knows the task is done. Seconds is all it takes for the familiar swirls of the Dark Lord's peculiar apparition to announce his arrival and Draco hears the worried yells of the Gryffindors.

This is it. This is the end of the war as it stands. The boy-who-lived will die, and Voldemort will be undefeatable. And what then? The first thing that will probably happen is the capture and possible slaughter of all muggle-borns. But will he stop there? The half-bloods probably won't be safe for long. And the muggles stand no chance, even with their fancy weaponry. It will be a massacre on a scale that the world has never heard of.

And suddenly Draco realises that that is not what he wants. He doesn't know what he wants, but he knows it's not that.

Draco watches as Voldemort fires a well-aimed killing curse, which would have hit Weasley square in the chest had he not been pushed out of the way by Granger. Draco wonders how many times the dunderhead duo would be dead by now if it weren't for the witch. She certainly seems to have saved their asses on multiple occasions.

The trio have held their ground so far, but being so outnumbered, it is possibly only minutes before they are taken down. Draco watches with horrific fascination as Hermione fires spell after spell at opponents, taking out Death Eaters and goblins alike, unwavering in her belief that they will make it out alive. She's like an avenging angel.

As the thought passes through his mind, Draco notices two things happen at once. Hermione fires an _Expelliarmus_ at a Death Eater, and Lucius takes advantage of her distraction, firing a curse Draco hasn't heard of at the witch, a curse she has no chance of protective herself against. Without another thought or a moment's hesitation, Draco flings himself across the room, entering the battle for the first time, only not at all in the way he thought he would. The force of the curse alone sends Draco hurtling across the room, landing vaguely near where the trio are still furiously trying to fight their way out. An unbearable pounding assaults the young Malfoy's head, almost knocking him out instantly through the pain alone.

Struggling to maintain consciousness, Draco looks up into the most beautiful pair of chocolates eyes he'd ever seen, and vaguely notes the odd mix of concern and confusion that glimmer in them before he succumbs to the unbeatable pull of unconsciousness.

..

'What are you doing?'

'He's the _enemy_!'

'He'll turn us in!'

'He'll try to kill us!'

'Let's just kill him now!'

'WILL YOU TWO STOP IT!' Hermione screeches at the two boys as they soar over England on the back of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. The two conscious boys instantly shut up, but by the redness tinting Ron's face, he isn't happy about it. 'As much as it pains me to admit it, Malfoy saved my life. I don't know why and I don't know what it means, but I _was not_ about to leave him there to die.'

'But 'Mione, it's _Malfoy_ ,' Harry says, trying to reason with the witch, who stubbornly raises her chin. 'He wasn't trying to save us, he was probably getting a better angle to kill us.'

'He also stopped Bellatrix,' Hermione whispers quietly, not wanting to talk about the incident that still haunts her thoughts. Her eyes drift absently to the lettering on her forearm, her fingers tracing the scar. As predicted, the wound had closed but it seemed it would be a permanent taint on her skin.

'We still don't know that,' argues Ron. 'You could just be trying to defend-'

'I know what happened!' yells Hermione. 'Trust me, I hate this as much as you do, but I don't bloody-well have a choice, now do I?'

'We could just-'

'If I hear you suggest we push him off this dragon one more time Ronald Weasley, I will push _you_ off of this dragon.'

Ron shuts up, his jaw clenching. Tension fills the void that silence creates, and Hermione turns to the blonde balanced precariously across her lap. Whilst adamant in defending him to the boys, she was still unsure of his actions herself. It had certainly looked like he had thrown himself in front of his father's curse, but what if he hadn't? Is Hermione just being too optimistic? The fact is that it is entirely possible that as soon as Draco regains consciousness, he will summon the Dark Lord and then they'll all be in danger again, but Hermione can't shake the idea that that is wrong, that he won't betray them. She subconsciously drags a stray bit of his white-blonde hair out of his face and can't help but notice how different he looks asleep than awake. The scowl that she thought was permanently etched into his face is replaced with a childlike sort of innocence, the sneer faded into an almost smile.

She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that the boy was attractive. He wasn't known as the Slytherin sex-god for nothing. His strong jawline and defined cheek bones radiated prestige, and though they weren't visible, Hermione had always been fascinated by those silver grey eyes.

Having acted on instincts and levitating Malfoy onto the beast with the fleeing Gryffindors, Hermione had tried to ascertain exactly what type of spell he had been hit with. There were no external injuries, and she had eventually realised that the spell targeted the brain, rendering the subject unconscious and causing internal bleeding in the head. Fortunately, having been on the run with Harry and Ron for months, Hermione had become quite proficient in healing spells, and after a spell to eradicate the bleeding, and a further one to reduce trauma, she had been satisfied that he would make a fine recovery. He has yet to regain consciousness though, and Hermione is still unsure whether to consider it a positive or a negative. It could be indicative of further injury, or could just be the body naturally recovering. And if he does wake, what should Hermione do? On top of a dragon is hardly the best place for a duel.

But thinking about it, Hermione hasn't noticed his wand. Disciplining herself for not thinking of it sooner, Hermione raids Draco's pockets. After searching his entire body, she comes to the conclusion that he must have dropped it after being hit. That's not going to help the whole anger situation when he wakes up, but it is slightly reassuring that he'll have to rely on wandless magic if he chooses to attack. And he's outnumbered.

Feeling safer, Hermione leans back slightly, accidentally coming into contact with Ron's muscled chest. Despite the shortage of food over the few months the trio had been hunting Horcruxes, Ron had somehow maintained his chiselled physique, and Hermione mildly enjoys the sensation of his biceps rippling as he wraps an arm around her waist. She tries to relax into the hold, but can't shake the sensation of unease. When did it become so uncomfortable to be hugged by Ron?

..

Peeling back his heavy eyelids, consciousness slowly returns to Draco.

There is a throbbing in his head and his back aches from what appears to be a rather uncomfortable bed. The space around him is unfamiliar. What happened?

Dragging his gaze across the surrounding area, trying to recollect the events of the day, Draco observes a small wooden table in the centre of the room, with some books scattered haphazardly on top. A bunkbed lies directly across the room from him, with an untidy duvet strewn across each bed. A lamp hovers in the centre of the room, some sort of charm placed on the object to keep it glowing, and beige drapes surround the entire room. Is this a tent?

As the idea crosses his mind, a part of the drapes is pulled back, which Draco realises to be a door, and in walks none other than the Weasel himself. Memory of the fight in Gringotts and the resulting curse he had received from his father comes rushing back to him, and Draco groans at the realisation that it wasn't just a bad dream.

At the noise, Ron's blue eyes instantly flash towards Draco lying on the bed, and he halts, drawing his wand.

Fumbling around for his own wand, Draco soon realises that he is unarmed and at the mercy of the stupid ginger. He can't rely on Weasley's temper not flaring up, despite the fact that Draco seems to have been so far unharmed by the trio. At least if it were Granger, he could reason with her; make her see the sense of not killing him.

'Don't move, Malfoy,' Ron spits, keeping his wand trained on the blonde.

'Where do you expect me to go?' Draco asks sarcastically, motioning with his head to his wrists which he realises are cuffed to the bed.

Ron eyes the Slytherin warily before turning to the entrance of the tent. 'Harry, Hermione!' he calls. Almost instantaneously, the two enter the enclosed space, searching for any source of danger.

Hermione's eyes instantly fall on the blonde, noting his conscious sentient state. 'Oh thank goodness you're awake,' Hermione mutters and Draco's jaw drops. Did Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor Princess actually just show concern for his wellbeing? Realising she'd said her thoughts aloud, Hermione rapidly explains, 'I mean, it's just that you were injured, and it seemed you'd tried to save us, and I wasn't sure why you hadn't woken up yet, I mean you've been out for four days and-'

Draco stops her. 'I've been out for _four days_?' he demands, trying to sit up straight within the limited space of the restraints.

'Yes,' Hermione informs him, more composed now. 'Whatever spell your father used, it was a nasty one.'

Draco chuckles darkly. 'My father isn't exactly known for using nice spells.' When silence falls awkwardly over the group, Draco clears his throat, 'so, umm, what happened?'

'We were hoping you could tell us,' says Harry, having remained silent up until that point. Draco raises his eyebrows. 'Why did you throw yourself in front of the curse?'

'A thank you would be nice,' grumbles Draco, not in the mood for attempting to explain something he doesn't understand himself.

'Thank you,' whispers Hermione. 'I know you probably don't care, but I'm pretty sure that curse was aimed for me, and you saved me. So, thank you.'

For the second time that day, Draco is left speechless by something Hermione says. First concern, now gratitude, Draco thinks he must still be unconscious and this is some weird dream. He pinches himself to make sure, and the action does not go unnoticed by the Weasel, who huffs out a laugh. 'Just because you're incapable of showing any positive emotion, doesn't mean our Hermione can't.'

Draco's eyes flicker back to Hermione's chocolate brown orbs and finds he can't look away. This does not seem like the Granger he knew back in school. The Granger he knew back in school was a bushy-haired know-it-all who got lived in the library and got under his skin better than anyone else.

But standing in front of him is a Hermione Granger who seems broken by the war. She looks- well, she looks like a woman. Even under the baggy clothes she is wearing, Draco can tell she has grown some curves, and her bushy hair doesn't seem so unappealing anymore. In fact, he can just imagine getting his hands all tangled up in-

Draco pauses, ridding himself of his thoughts. What the hell was that?

The silence clearly being too uncomfortable for her, Hermione says, 'anyway, it seems we have a lot to talk about. But first, I'm guessing you're going to want some food.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So here's another chapter! I don't know how often I will be able to publish new chapters, but I'm hoping to do at least on a week. As always, please leave a review! Thanks :)


	4. Chapter 4

Draco Malfoy was acting strangely. Hermione had been in a room with him for more than thirty minutes and not once had he called her a Mudblood, or insulted her appearance, or even looked down his nose at her. After fetching Malfoy some of their limited food supplies, Hermione had waited whilst he finished eating. Harry and Ron had been unwilling to leave her alone with him, but after reminding them that he was wandless and she wasn't stupid, they had agreed to give her some time to question him.

Putting the plate down, Draco eyes Hermione warily. 'You saved my life,' he says.

'And you saved mine,' she replies. Silence falls again, and Hermione finds it uncomfortable. 'Why- why did you?' she asks in a quieter voice, as if ashamed of wanting to know.

'I don't know,' he admits in an equally low volume, as if ashamed of the answer. 'What happened after I passed out?'

Hermione observes him, saying, 'after you, umm, threw yourself in front of the curse, your dad got pretty confused. He wasn't the only one, and the hesitation allowed us to mount the dragon and escape. I levitated you with us. I thought they might kill you for helping us.'

Draco goes silent, absorbing the information. Neither speaks for an immeasurable amount of time, and Hermione resists the urge to shake him to force him to explain why he saved them.

After what feels like an eternity, a bewildered expression crosses Draco's face, and he looks up at Hermione. 'Wait… you rode a fucking dragon?'

Hermione almost laughs. 'You rode one too, although you were unconscious for the entire journey.'

Draco ponders that for a minute, trying to suppress his impressed surprise. The entrance to the tent opens, and Harry's face pops in. 'Just checking you're okay, Mione… are you?' he asks, warily watching Draco across the room. His hands were unbound to eat, which made Harry uneasy, and he examines Malfoy warily, afraid that he would resort to physical means of escape if given the chance.

Hermione nods. 'We're fine, Harry.' Harry nods back, and the tent flaps fall shut again.

Draco snorts. 'It must be hard to have fun with your two bodyguards hanging around all the time,' he comments. 'What's the matter? Brightest witch of her age can't look after herself?'

Hermione's expression turns dark. She tries not to take the bait, but replies angrily, 'just because I have friends who actually care about my wellbeing does not mean that I can't hex you into next year if I have even the slightest inkling that you're up to something, Malfoy.'

'I forgot how easy it was to wind you up. All I have to do is insult the dunderhead duo and you go all mama-bear. So tell me Granger, are the emotions merely platonic?' he says with a smirk, loving how her mouth twitches angrily.

Hermione feels the blood drain from her face. He really does know what buttons to press, doesn't he? Without dignifying him with a response, Hermione merely waves her wand, wordlessly replacing the restraints around his wrists and turns hastily towards the exit. Just before she leaves the tent, she hears Draco sigh.

'I'm sorry,' he whispers. 'That wasn't the best way to show my gratitude for you saving my life.'

Turning towards him very slowly, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Hermione looks up and down Draco's bed-ridden body. Same white blonde hair. Same icy-grey eyes. Same lean body. Same long legs. Everything suggests that it is in fact Draco Malfoy lying in their tent. But then- 'Did you just apologise to me?' she asks, astounded.

Draco's expression goes from confused to amused in an instant. 'Huh, I guess I did. Don't get used to it, Granger.'

She can't fight the small smile that tugs at her lips. 'Trust me, I don't think that's anything I could ever get used to.'

Draco smiles slightly back at her. Not his trademark smirk, but an actual, genuine smile and Hermione is shocked by how much it suits him.

'Umm… can you please remove my shackles again now? As much as I'm all for handcuffs in bed, it's not the same when there's not a naked witch on top of me.' Hermione rolls her eyes as his smirk reclaims his face, and throws a pillow at him before removing his restraints again and retaking her seat across from him.

'If you're going to stop acting like an asshole, can we please discuss what happened?' she asks, watching as he tucks the pillow behind his back as he sits up, pushing his hair back from his face. 'Can we start at the- at the Manor?' she asks, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. If she never has to return to that place, it will be too soon.

Draco sighs, avoiding eye-contact. 'Look, I don't know what to tell you. I'm sure you're hoping that I'll tell you I had a moment of realisation and I suddenly realised I wanted to join your side of the war and I couldn't bear to see another innocent person hurt but, honestly? I'm not sure how much of that is true.'

Hermione sucks in a breath, debating whether it's too late to replace the restraints.

'Calm down there, Granger. I can almost hear that big brain of yours telling you not to trust me… and I'm not saying you should but… I didn't save your life to kill you now.'

'Okay, that's mildly reassuring, I guess… so, what now?'

Draco groans, running his hand through his hair again, and Hermione vaguely wonders whether it's a subconscious action, like Harry adjusting his glasses even when he doesn't need to. 'I don't know, Granger. I really don't know.'

..

Being shackled and wandless was not a situation that Draco found he enjoyed. Feeling helpless did not come naturally to him. And trusting Potter and Weasley not to poison the limited food they gave him was something that Draco really struggled with. At least he trusted Gryffindor's Princess to be too goody-goody to attempt to murder him through his meals. But it had been three days and Draco was yet to be released from his bed for anything other than toilet trips… or should he say behind a tree trips, as apparently with all their magical prowess, none of them could transfigure a toilet out of their limited supplies. How the bookworm managed, he didn't want to know.

They were no closer to coming to an agreement than when they had first captured him. Rescued, Draco reminds himself. When they first rescued him.

Of course, he did save their lives first, so he considers them pretty even on that front.

It could also be argued that he's saved Granger's life twice. No wonder they're confused as to his motives – _he's_ confused by his motives.

Does he still want the Dark Lord to win the war? Maybe not. But is he willing to actively fight against him? He's not so sure. It would be easier if he didn't have his family at risk. Well, he couldn't really care too much about his father, but his mother is still in that house with him, possibly being tortured because of his exploits. He shudders at the thought. No, his father would never let that happen. Lucius Malfoy does not care for much, but beyond anything he cares for his wife.

Draco wonders what happened to Lucius after the battle at Gringotts. From what Granger had told him, nothing immediately bad happened to him, but no doubt he is being questioned intently why it seemed his son had betrayed them. Maybe, if Draco's lucky, the trio will let him leave, and he can return, claiming to have been abducted by them, and work on getting his mother out of the Manor and to a safe house. But then what? Could Draco really just sit back and hide whilst the war raged on around him?

A groan of frustration leaves his lips. No. No he doesn't think he could sit back and hide.

'Something the matter?'

His head snaps up. He hadn't even heard her come in. Draco had gotten quite used to Granger's routine over the last three of days. She was always the first awake in the morning, and immediately went to intensely reading that children's book that she carries with her. She'd eventually wake the two boys up, and go for a wash outside. She'd then return and feed Draco, before having some food herself, whilst the boys went on a supply run. The three would often then have a meeting in a side compartment of the tent – silenced and warded so that Draco couldn't eavesdrop – and the three would leave looking more frustrated than when they started. Granger would then curl up on her bunk and read for hours, never losing concentration. How she managed such extreme application to a task as menial as reading, Draco would never understand. After a few hours, she would fetch Draco some more food, and try to strike up conversation. Draco didn't hate talking to her as much as he thought he would. Sure, she still drove him insane at times, but he had developed a grudging respect for her. She wasn't so bad. For a muggle-born, of course.

And then evening would arrive, and the other two would join Hermione for a meal together, which Hermione shared with Draco, and then they'd all go to sleep. It had been the same thing, three days in a row. Draco is sure that if the Dark Lord doesn't manage to kill him, boredom will.

If only they would trust him enough to let him leave his bed. What Draco wouldn't do to go for a ride on his broom right now, or even simply to hold his wand.

Realising Hermione is waiting for an actual response, Draco replies 'no, I'm fine.'

'You sure? It can't be comfortable lying in that bed all day.'

Draco raises an eyebrow. 'Well, now that you mention it, I really wouldn't mind going for a walk…' he trails off, giving up hope before even finishing voicing his request.

But then suddenly his restraints are lifted and Hermione is walking towards the tent flaps. She turns at the door, looking at him questioningly. 'Well, are you coming? Going for a walk is a lot easier done if you actually get up, you know.'

Suppressing his shock, Draco gets to his feet, wincing at the painful cracks of his bones as he stretches. Joining Hermione at the entrance to the tent, he waves a hand to encourage her to take the lead. Nodding, she strides confidently out of the door and Draco is mildly surprised to find that she trusts him enough to turn her back on him. It wouldn't be hard to jump her right now, steal her wand and apparate away before she had the chance to say 'Malfoy, you evil ferret!'

But instead he just follows her out of the canvas home, and falls into step beside her.

..

Much to her surprise, Hermione finds her spontaneous walk with Draco Malfoy rather pleasurable. It's nice to escape from hunting Horcruxes and planning the demise of Voldemort for just a short while, enjoying the innocent singing of the birds in the trees that surround them, relishing the insistent pull of the wind through her hair. And whilst she would never admit it out loud, Draco doesn't actually prove to be too horrible company. He's witty, smart and actually able to maintain a conversation about something other than Quidditch (Ronald).

As they stray further from the tent, Hermione absently wonders whether the boys will wonder where they've gone. Realising that they would freak out when they found both her and Draco missing, and probably assume the worst, she quickly draws her wand and a silver otter shoots out of the tip, awaiting instruction. 'To Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, I am fine, Draco and I have gone for a walk. Back soon.' With another wave of her wand, the otter disappears back the way they came and Hermione turns to continue walking.

It takes about five steps before she realises that Draco hasn't followed her. Turning on her heel, she watches him curiously. A look of incredulity is plastered across his face, his grey eyes wide.

'What is it?' she asks, glancing around to find out if they are in immediate danger. Finding their surroundings clear, she turns back to the boy in front of her. 'Malfoy?'

'What was that?' he asks.

'Umm… a Patronus?'

He gives her a scathing look. 'I'm not stupid, Granger. I just didn't know you could cast one. What did you say to it?' he seems to regain control of his expression, and the emotionless mask reclaims his face as he walks over to where she is waiting for him.

'I sent a message to Harry and Ron to let them know that we're going for a walk,' she explains, pulling a branch out of her way so it doesn't hit her in the face as they continue their walk. Hermione prefers camping in forests like this, away from cities and protected by natural camouflage.

'I didn't know that was possible,' he admits sheepishly.

Hermione thinks on that for a moment. She suddenly realises that the only people she knows of that use Patronuses for communicative purposes have been in the Order of the Phoenix. Is Patronus communication not a wizard-wide thing? Maybe it was something that Dumbledore developed? It sounds like something the old wizard would think up.

'What's your Patronus?' she asks, intrigued as to what aspect of his personality would influence his Patronus. Maybe a snake, because of Slytherin. Or maybe a ferret? Hermione stifles a chuckle at the thought.

Draco pauses. 'I- umm, I've never cast a Patronus,' he admits, looking down. 'I don't know how to.'

Hermione's eyes widen slightly as she tries to smother her surprise. Without thinking, she asks, 'do you want me to teach you?'

He looks up suddenly, astonished by her offer. 'Why would you do that?' he asks in a whisper.

'Because Dark wizards can't cast Patronuses… and I don't believe that you're a Dark wizard,' she admits, gazing so deeply into his eyes that she is sure she can see his soul.

For a moment, a glimmer of hope sparkles in Draco's grey orbs, turning them silver, but then he scowls, and spits out, 'I thought you were smarter than that, Granger.'

Trying to hide her hurt, Hermione stares him down. 'You'll never know if you don't try. And I didn't think Malfoys were afraid of a challenge,' she says, knowing just which buttons to push. He may believe himself to be evil, but Hermione knows otherwise. She's seen him do brave and incredible things, risking his life for others. You don't do that if you're evil.

Malfoy's eyes harden and Hermione expects him to insult her again, so is startled when instead he says, 'you'd make a good Slytherin, you know.' As Hermione's jaw drops, he continues, 'but the fact remains that I don't have a wand, so unless you're offering up yours, teaching me would be pointless.'

Seeing his point, Hermione closes her mouth and tries to think of a solution. Reaching down, Hermione grabs a stick off of the floor and thrusts it into Draco's hand. Startled, he tightens his fist around it. 'What, are we playing sword fighting now?' he asks.

Hermione rolls her eyes. 'I can at least show you the technique,' she explains, holding her wand out. Following the familiar movements, she shows the motion of the wand. Draco looks unimpressed, but repeats her motion nonetheless. 'Not quite,' Hermione says. 'Look you need to-' she repeats the movement, and Draco copies, mastering the technique the second time. 'Good, so the spell is obviously _Expecto Patronum._ '

'Is that it?' he asks, looking pleased with himself.

Hermione shakes her head. 'Well, you have to, umm, think of a happy memory,' she explains, and Draco looks sceptical. 'That's how it works. The happiness sort of counteracts the Dementors.'

'Seriously?' he asks, raising his perfectly arched eyebrows. When Hermione nods, Draco drops the stick and begins walking in the direction of the tent.

'Wait! What's the matter?' questions Hermione, jogging to catch up with his longer strides.

He doesn't answer for a moment, but finally looks at her and says, 'I don't exactly have any happy memories, Granger.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hi all! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm trying not to rush anything between Draco and Hermione, as I think some Fanfictions rush too quickly from hate to love between the two, sorry if it's a bit slow going!

Also, I want to give a MASSIVE thank you to **Frogster** , for the review. It really made my day to read it! Hopefully this chapter lives up to your expectations :)

I'll try to update soon guys!


	5. Chapter 5

Draco attempts to stare Hermione down, almost daring her to argue with him.

On cue, her concerned voice says, 'I'm sure that's not-'

'-not true?' Draco scoffs. 'As if you know anything about my life.' He glares at her, irrationally annoyed by the stubborn set of her chin. Draco realises she isn't going to back down.

'I don't need to know your whole history to know that you must have some happy memories,' she argues back, refusing to give up. Draco didn't know whether he expected a pity party or not, but it doesn't seem like he's going to get one.

He doesn't know how to respond. The truth is, he genuinely can't think of a happy memory. Has it always been like that? Surely he's been happy at some point in his life? But the more he tries to focus on positive memories, the more frustrated he gets. And something tells him to take his anger out on the stupidly optimistic Gryffindor in front of him. 'Not everyone's life is sparkles and rainbows, you know, Granger,' he growls.

'You think my life is sparkles and rainbows?' she asks incredulously. 'So I'm not allowed to make judgements on your life but you think you know everything about mine?'

Draco snorts. 'Oh yeah, I'm sure it's so hard being Gryffindor's Princess.'

'You of all people should know my life hasn't been easy! You made it your sole purpose in school to make my life a living hell!' she yells, jabbing him hard in the chest with a finger. At some point during their argument the two had gotten within a foot of each other, causing Hermione to have to crane her neck to look at him.

Draco falters. She's right. Taking a step back, he looks down at the girl in front of him. Behind that brave exterior, he notices a hurt in her eyes that she can't fully hide, and he feels something inside of him that he can't put a finger on. An unknown emotion that feels something like… guilt? 'You- you're right… I'm… sorry.'

Hermione looks away. 'Yeah well I'm over it anyway. Not that I expect you to really care. I'm just a filthy Mudblood in your eyes.'

Draco flinches at the term. He can tell by the moisture in her eyes that she's not over it, and he has to fight an insane urge to wrap his arms around her smaller form and comfort her. 'I mean it, Granger. I was an arse to you for no other reason than you went against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up believing that muggle-borns were inferior, and there you were, a muggle-born who bested me in everything.' He doesn't know where his admission comes from, but he realises that it's true. There really was no other reason for him to act the way he did towards her.

A small smile graces Hermione's lips. 'Not at everything,' she admits. 'I always sucked at flying.'

An uncharacteristic laugh belts out of Draco, remembering how terrified she used to look during flying lessons in school. The only time he ever saw the Gryffindor look worried was right before those lessons.

Hermione's smile grows bigger. 'It's not funny,' she scolds him, though her tone lacks bite.

'I have to see you on a broom again, Granger. It's officially on my bucket list.'

'That's so not- wait… you know what a bucket list is?'

Draco folds his arms. 'I may not like muggles but some information about them managed to filter through the hatred,' he says, smirking down at her.

Hermione folds her own arms, mimicking his posture. 'Muggles aren't all that bad you know.'

'Of course you'd say that, your parents are muggles,' Draco argues. He notices a sudden sadness to her expression, and she turns to walk them back to the tent without replying. Incurably curious, it takes every ounce of Draco's willpower to remind himself that he doesn't care enough about the witch to ask her what upset her. Was it something he said? No, Draco reminds himself. It's not important.

Slowing his stride to match her shorter steps, he risks a glance down at her and notices her try to discreetly wipe away a tear.

Crying made Draco uncomfortable. He'd never been very expressive when it came to his emotions, preferring to hide behind a cold exterior. Very few people could properly read him. Maybe only one: his mother. A sharp pang of worry strikes him at the thought of his mother, still stuck in the Manor, possibly hurting because of him. Draco decides to make it his mission to rescue her from what used to be their home.

But a tug of doubt pulls at him. Would she want to come? Could she leave their beliefs behind and accept safety from those she swore to oppose? And Draco realises with undeniable desolation that no, no she probably wouldn't want to leave her life behind.

The two continue the walk back in silence, neither wishing to express their grief to the other, but both taking a strange sort of comfort from the fact that the other seemed to be hurting as much. When the reach the tent, Hermione motions for Draco to enter, but doesn't follow him in, choosing instead to take a seat by a tree outside, bringing her knees up in front of her and tucking her head between them. Draco realises this means no restraints for today. It surprises him that the idea of leaving doesn't even cross his mind. In a few short days he'd grown to feel mildly at home in the grotty tent and surrounded by his former enemies. He sighs as he takes a seat on his bed. _His_ bed. Maybe he really is insane.

..

Walking with Draco every day became a habit that Hermione found herself far too comfortable with. After the emotion-laden conversation the first day, she had been unwilling to repeat the experience the following day, but an argument with Ron sent her seeking the peculiar comfort that Draco provided. And to her surprise, she found herself joking with the blonde, reliving stories from Hogwarts about the trio's many antics, and she soon realised that Draco and his friends lived a far from innocent life at the castle, they just got caught less.

And so became their routine. After lunch, the two would leave the tent, walking in a random direction and chatting about non-important things until one of them eventually said something that upset or angered the other, and then they'd walk back in silence and part ways.

But today Hermione plans on changing that routine. Today she is going to confront him about his plans. Because they can't continue putting their lives at risk protecting him if he's going to turn around and betray them in the end.

She waits until they are out of earshot of the tent. Taking a deep breath, she decides to be blunt. 'Malfoy, what are your intentions?'

Startled, apparently not expecting such a serious topic straight off, Draco takes a moment to process her words. 'You mean..?'

'I mean in the war,' she states, not beating around the bush. This is a long overdue conversation.

'Wow, Granger. I was not expecting that.' He releases a long breath. 'I- I don't know.'

Hermione resists the urge to growl at him. 'Well you need to know! Malfoy, there's a war going on, goddamnit! And sooner or later you're going to have to pick a side.'

'Don't you think I know that Granger? Do you think this is easy for me?' he argues. Hermione knows it's not easy, but avoiding the situation any longer would be senseless. 'You know I don't believe in the same pureblood nonsense that I was brought up to believe. Heck, we wouldn't even be having this conversation if I did. But do you expect me to fight against my friends? My family? I don't know if I can do that,' he admits.

'Well you need to know! Because every day that goes by that you don't commit to our cause, the more danger we put ourselves in! Put yourself in our shoes, Malfoy. What if one day you wake up and realise you still want to follow Voldemort-' The word is out of Hermione's mouth before she can think to stop herself. Shit. The Taboo on his name.

Without pausing, Hermione grabs Draco's hand and apparates to the first place that comes into her mind. 'What the-'

She shushes him and instantly summons her Patronus. 'To Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Get out. Snatchers on their way.' She instantly sends the silver otter away, praying it gets there in time.

'Granger, what's going on?' Draco asks, moving to stand in front of her.

Panicking, Hermione searches their surroundings. It doesn't look like they were followed by any snatchers. Where are they? Hermione tries to remember where her thoughts took the two of them. They're in another forest, that much is obvious. But in her rattled state, Hermione can't place where she apparated to.

'You-Know-Who. There's a- a taboo on his n- name. That's how we were captured before! I didn't mean to say it! It just slipped out! And now they're in the area and- and Harry and Ron are so close to where we were! What if they were captured again? What if they're already dead? What if-'

'Granger, shush,' Draco says, pulling her into his arms. Hermione barely recognises the weirdness of the situation as she clutches the fabric of his shirt, burying her head in his chest, allowing the sobs to wrack her body. Soothing patterns are traced against her back as the Slytherin attempts to reassure her. 'Hermione, it's going to be okay,' he whispers into her ear. The sound of him saying her name sends shivers racing through her spine. She looks up into his eyes, seeing actual concern reflected in them. Concern for her.

Despite the craziness of the situation, despite the fear that is still coursing through her body, despite knowing how wrong it is, Hermione is engulfed by a sudden and undeniable urge to press her lips against his soft ones. As she leans up, she feels only a slight hesitation before Draco's head bends slightly to meet hers. Just as their lips are about to connect, a bright light out of the corner of her eye sends Hermione hurtling back, turning to face the intrusion.

A silvery-white stag walks into the opening, and Harry's voice permeates the air. 'Hermione, Ron and I are safe. We managed to grab most of our belongings before apparating away, but the tent was left behind.' With its message delivered, the glowing stag bounds off into the distance and disappears.

Hermione breathes a sigh of relief. They're safe. They made it out.

She glances over to where Draco is still standing, looking down. Blood rushes to her cheeks at the thought of what they almost did. How could she be so foolish?

Grounded now by the reality of the situation, Hermione draws her wand again. After sending a message to the boys asking them where they are to rejoin each other, Hermione turns back to Draco. 'I'm… sorry for how I reacted. It was not what was needed in the situation. It won't happen again.' Hermione isn't sure if she imagines the look of disappointment that crosses Draco's face.

Before he can respond, however, the stag reappears with a new message. 'We believe we've found a way to destroy the cup. We're going to check it out. It's best if you stay hidden for now. Stay safe, and don't send any messages in case we are compromised. We'll contact you in a few days. Sorry, Mione, but it's for the best.'

Hermione's jaw drops. They did not just-

'How could they? They can't go off without me! What are they thinking?' Hermione grunts in frustration.

'What cup?' Draco asks, his eyebrows raised.

Hermione realises that they had yet to tell Draco of their mission. Debating whether or not she should trust him with the information, she pauses.

'Is it a Horcrux?' Hermione gapes at Draco, who rolls his eyes at her. 'Granger, I was the Dark Lord's puppet for years. I picked up on a few things.'

Hermione nods. 'Yes. Yes we found a Horcrux in Bellatrix's vault, but the sword we had been using to destroy them was stolen. They're not particularly easy to destroy.'

'Wait, is that what you've been doing all year? Hunting Horcruxes?' Draco asks, astounded.

She nods at him and he gives her a look, a sort of shocked admiration, and it makes Hermione feel like a total badass. But it does little to dampen the foul mood the message from Harry and Ron left her with. How could they go on with the mission without her? She can't just sit around twiddling her thumbs for days without contact from them, waiting for some sort of message. Anger surges through her. Turning on her heel, she drives her fist into the tree nearest to her, satisfied by the loud crack that reverberates. That is, until the pain kicks in.

Cursing, Hermione cradles her fist in her other hand and bends over. Probably broken. She attempts to wiggle her fingers and swears again. Yep definitely broken.

'Oh for fuck sake, Granger,' sighs Draco, walking to where she is still doubled over. 'Let me have a look.' Hermione stubbornly shakes her head, embarrassed by her outburst. 'Hermione, please,' he asks, looking directly into her eyes.

Feeling numbed by the tenderness in his voice, she reaches out her injured limb, and he gently takes her fist into his palm. 'At least I didn't punch you that hard in third year,' she mumbles, smiling slightly.

Draco grins back, flashing his pearly white teeth. 'I'm not sure, there was definitely some force behind it. Proper hurt my nose, you know.'

'You were being an arse, you deserved it,' she replies.

'Fair point… have you got any healing supplies?'

Hermione looks down at her beaded bag, the only thing she had on her apart from her wand when they apparated away. Nodding, she reaches into it and summons a healing salve. She raises her wand in her left hand and points it at the other. ' _Brackium Emendo,_ ' she mutters, flinching at the feeling of her bones fixing themselves. After trying and failing for a few moments to open the salve with one hand, Draco wordlessly takes the tin from her and opens it. Before she can reach in to scoop some of the healing cream into her palm, Draco dips in two fingers, and applies it to her injured fist. Gently rubbing it into her skin, Draco avoids eye contact and Hermione relishes the numbing feel of the salve. He massages the last remnants into her hand, and Hermione risks a glance at his face. The limited light seeping through the leaves of the trees highlights his cheekbones, casting sharp shadows across his face. Hermione almost feels herself swoon at how handsome he is.

Pull yourself together, she tells herself. This is Malfoy. Sure, he's not as much of a dick anymore. And sure, he's being really sweet right now. And sure, they sort of had a moment earlier. But it's _Malfoy_ , she reminds herself. And she has to ignore how soft his full lips look, and how good the touch of his hand on hers feels. And-

Hermione inwardly groans. This is going to be tough.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Yay more reviews! Thanks for the positive feedback guys! If you have any criticisms or improvements, just let me know :) I'm glad people are actually reading this. As I said before, this is my first Fanfiction, so I'm just happy that anyone at all is reading it!


	6. Chapter 6

Two-thousand, nine-hundred and eighty-four minutes. That is how long that Draco had been left alone in Hermione's company since she accidentally alerted the snatchers of their whereabouts, and it was two-thousand, nine-hundred and eighty-four minutes too long.

The situation had been tense between the two since their near kiss two days ago, and the awkwardness was driving Draco insane. After he had tended to her hand, Hermione had gone into a scarily detached survival state. Wards were immediately set up, protecting the two from being seen or heard. She had then spent an hour cataloguing supplies and in doing so had impressed Draco with how well prepared she was. Other than her healing supplies, her beaded bag also contained a change of clothes for her, Harry and Ron, books she considered useful, food supplies for four days, three blankets, a map, some muggle and wizarding money, a cauldron and some basic potion supplies.

Whilst Hermione had been going through her supplies, Draco had sat quietly on a log and watched, wondering whether it would be wise to say anything. He had decided it wouldn't be, and had kept silent.

When finished checking her supplies, Hermione had consulted her map and discovered that they were somewhere in the New Forest and she was sure they'd be safe to stay here for a few days, until Harry and Ron got into contact with them. It was clear she was still fuming from being left out of the action and Draco had a feeling that she was putting every effort into focussing on the task at hand to stop herself from wallowing in her negative thoughts. And she was avoiding him. She didn't make eye contact with him throughout the entire time she had been cataloguing her supplies.

And Draco wasn't sure if he was hurt, indifferent or just plain exasperated by her childish response. Ii

She had had the same disconnected attitude for the past two days and it was slowly causing Draco's anger to rise. He was irrationally irritated by her cold nature. She'd barely said two words to him in the two days they'd spent together. She'd spend the day reading, occasionally stopping to put together a meal for the two of them. She'd eat her food separately, and at night she'd retreat to one of the beds they'd transfigured, leaving him to wonder just why she was acting so strangely.

But of course he knew. She had been about to kiss him. And he had been about to let her.

Draco prided himself on his intellect, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite decipher why he hadn't pushed the witch away and told her never to look at him again. It probably would have caused less awkwardness if he had pushed her away.

But no matter how much he tried to deny it, he really wished that Patronus hadn't interrupted them that day.

Sighing, he pushes himself off of the log he had been pretending to nap on, and walks over to Hermione, taking a seat next to her. 'What are you reading?' he asks politely, glancing over at the book rested on her lap.

'Hogwarts: A History,' she replies automatically.

Draco keeps pushing. 'Why?' he asks.

'To find out more about the founders.'

'Why?'

'To find out about any objects personal to them.'

'Why?'

Hermione huffs and pushes the book away, looking up to meet Draco's curious gaze. 'Why does it matter so much?'

'Because this is the longest conversation we've had in two days, Granger. And as much as I hate to admit it, it's getting pretty lonely reading your books and throwing stones at trees, not to mention boring,' he informs her, refusing to break the eye contact.

Hermione raises her chin slightly, affecting a look of nonchalance. 'I've been busy,' she says in an unemotional voice.

'Bullshit.'

'Excuse me?' she exclaims, her eyes widening slightly.

'I said bullshit, Granger. You've been avoiding me and I don't appreciate it. This is all because of that stupid kiss-'

'-we didn't kiss.'

'I bloody well know that, you infuriating witch! But we nearly did and since then you can barely look at me! Stop acting like a child and face your problems like the stupid Gryffindor you are.' His rant over, Draco tries to slow down his breathing, which had sped up dramatically.

Hermione stares at him for a few moments longer, stubbornness radiating from her every feature, daring Draco to back down. But then she sighs and returns her gaze to the book in her hands. 'You're right,' she mutters.

Draco's eyebrows raise. 'What? Did _the_ Hermione Granger just admit to being _wrong_?'

She playfully kicks him. 'Yes and I don't plan on being wrong again, so don't get used to it.'

'Trust me, I don't think that's anything I could ever get used to,' he replies, mirroring her words from a conversation that felt like a lifetime ago, but was really only a couple of weeks ago.

Hermione smiles, raising her eyes to meet his again. 'I am sorry. I've been childish… are we okay?'

Draco nods. 'Yeah, we're okay. But before I forgive you completely, you're going to have to relieve my boredom somehow. I think I might die of it otherwise.'

Laughing, Hermione agrees. 'Deal.'

..

An hour later finds Hermione and Draco sat across from each other on Hermione's bed with Hermione trying to teach Draco how to play Go Fish. After spending the first three quarters of the hour transfiguring fifty-two leaves into individual playing cards, Hermione had been unsuccessfully attempting to explain the game to Draco, who was just staring at the cards in his hand as if they were foreign objects.

'Okay, so I would ask if you have any sevens,' says Hermione, motioning to Draco's hand.

'And I'd have to give you the sevens in my hand?' he asks. When Hermione nods, Draco scowls and passes over two cards. 'And now it's my turn? Okay, do you have any sevens?'

Hermione groans, placing her head in her free hand. 'No you can't ask for cards you don't have.'

'But I do have a seven,' TDraco says, grinning and holding up the seven of hearts.

'Then that's called cheating, Malfoy,' says Hermione in an firm tone, giving the wizard a condescending look.

'I'm a Slytherin,' he reasons. At Hermione's unimpressed look, Draco concedes and hands over the final seven to the smug witch in front of him, watching as she places a pile of the four sevens in front of her, before turning his gaze back to his cards. 'Okay, fine, do you have any Kings?'

'Go fish.'

'I still don't get this game, why do I have to fish?' Draco complains.

'For the last time, you don't actually have to fish!' Hermione exclaims, throwing her cards on the floor. 'Never mind, I give up.'

'Aw, is little Granger getting impatient?' he teases, pushing her knee in a friendly manner.

Hermione scowls at the blonde in front of her, crossing her arms. 'Yeah it seems little Malfoy isn't as smart as he thinks he is,' she retorts, causing Draco to mirror her scowl. Honestly, she didn't expect it to be so difficult to teach him a simple card game. After his initial dubiousness at the idea of a muggle game, he'd seemed rather excited, although that was probably because he really had been bored for the past two days straight. She cringes slightly at how she treated him. She didn't mean to give him the cold shoulder, but she didn't know how else to react after nearly kissing him. It was all just so awkward! Part of her wishes she could turn back time and just stop her previous self from leaning towards his lips. But another part – a part she has been trying her best to ignore – just wants to try the whole thing again, and maybe not be interrupted this time. Shaking her head to rid herself of her thoughts, Hermione looks up and giggles as Malfoy's expression turns to a pout. 'I just spent forty-five minutes making these damn cards, we are going to use them!' She pauses, contemplating other games. 'How about snap?'

Draco narrows his eyes. 'I'm not a child.'

Rolling her eyes, Hermione argues, 'no but you are bored. And snap will cure you of your boredom.'

Seeing the sense in her reasoning, Draco holds his hands out for the cards. 'I'll shuffle.'

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione passes the deck over, watching as Draco expertly riffle shuffles the deck twice before cutting it. 'I didn't know you could shuffle,' she admits, impressed at how expertly he handled the cards.

'Just because I don't usually play your muggle fishing games doesn't mean I don't play cards, Granger. Poker is a common occurrence in the Slytherin dungeons. Of course, we usually play strip poker. I don't suppose you'd be up for a game?' he asks, sending her a cheeky wink.

Trying to hide her blush, Hermione replies, 'I'll stick to snap, please,' in as flat a voice as she can manage, but Draco chuckles huskily at her anyway. He quickly deals the cards out, picking up his own half and motioning for her to go first.

Hermione silently flips her card, her free hand out in preparation for Draco's turn. This is a game she is determined to win.

..

Draco learnt two things over the next twenty minutes. One: Hermione Granger is almost as competitive as he is. Two: Hermione Granger is very good at snap.

The game had been at a standstill for a while. Once Draco got into the swing of it, he realised that the two were very evenly matched, and he was pretty sure his hand was going to bruise from the force the witch used to snap. The longer the game went on, the more determined he was to win. Every time she won the cards, a superior grin would settle itself on lips, and all Draco wanted to do was kiss it off- wipe it off. He meant wipe it off of her face. Granger was going to be beaten.

'Snap!' she yells, slamming her hand down on the pileT before Draco had even realised the cards were a match. Focus, he tells himself. She gathers up the cards and adds them to her growing pile.

Feeling mildly disgruntled, Draco places the next card down. Why he is so into a silly child's game, he doesn't know. But he redirects his attention to the game nonetheless. The pile grows higher, each getting down to their last few cards.

'Snap!' the two yell in unison, their hands flying towards the pile of cards.

'My hand was down first!' states Draco, trying to pull the cards his way.

'Then how come middle finger is slightly under yours?' argues Hermione, pulling the cards towards her.

'Because you realised you were about to lose and wormed your way underneath!' states Draco, not releasing his hold of the deck, glaring at her.

'Gryffindors don't cheat!'

'Neither do Slytherins!'

'Yes they do!'

'Alright they do, but I'm not cheating!'

The two glower at each other, neither backing down. 'Okay, so now what? A draw?' suggests Hermione, thinking it the safest alternative.

Draco shakes his head. 'Not going to happen. I intend to win this. Clearly we need a decider.' Hermione seems to consider it before nodding. 'Arm wrestle?' he suggests with a smirk.

'I was thinking more of a coin toss,' says Hermione, reaching for her bag and summoning a muggle coin to her hand. Draco inspects the item, not being familiar with the currency. 'It's a pound coin… it's worth about three Sickles and eleven Knuts,' she explains, lifting the coin so he can get a better look. 'Okay, heads or tails?'

'Heads.'

Hermione throws the coin up in the air, watching it flip prettily, the dwindling light reflecting off the turning edges. She reaches her hand out to catch it and flips it onto her arm. Draco makes eye contact with her, the intensity in the action surprising him. The outcome of this coin toss has him on edge. By the wicked glint in the witch's eyes, he would guess that she feels the same way.

Lifting her hand slowly, Draco peers around to take a look at the coin. With a cheer, he exclaims, 'heads! Oh yeah! I win!'

Hermione's expression becomes slightly downcast. 'It doesn't really count, it was just luck. I don't see it as a loss,' she says, looking away.

'It so counts as a loss!' argues Draco, refusing to give in to the stubborn witch. 'Don't be such a sore loser, Granger.'

Instead of the harsh tone Draco expects to come out of her mouth, Draco is greeted by a soft tone. 'Hermione,' she corrects quietly. Draco looks at her, confusion evident on his face. She looks up at him slowly, her eyes betraying her feeling of vulnerability. 'I preferred it when you called me Hermione.'

Understanding her meaning, Draco nods slowly. 'Okay, but you have to call me Draco.'

A small smile decorates the Gryffindor's face. 'Deal… Draco.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter, I just didn't know what else to put in without making it too long. What do you guys think about the chapter? I tried to contrast the seriousness of the first half with the jokey nature between the two towards the end. Did it work? Please review, I always want to hear your opinions! Also, another thanks to **Frogster** for pointing out the grammatical error in the last chapter; I do try to proof-read before I publish chapters, but it's often hard to find your own mistakes! If you see any, just let me know :)

Thanks everyone!


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione is on edge.

After the situation last night in which most of the tension between her and Draco had been resolved, she had finally lost some of the weight off of her shoulders. But of course the inevitable dread over the outcome of Harry and Ron swooped in to fill the void, and Hermione had awoken that morning knotted into her blanket, showing how much she had tossed and turned during the night.

Her nightmares had been different last night. For once, she had the slight reprieve of not being under Bellatrix's wand, but instead she had to watch as the estranged witch tortured Harry and Ron in turn. And Hermione was frozen in place; no matter how hard she tried to move her body to help them, nothing happened. She could swear she'd never get the sounds of their screams out of her mind.

Glancing to the side, she observes Draco as he flips another page in her book on advanced potion making. How he could still find it interesting after having read it twice, she didn't know. But the slight crinkle between his eyebrows as he concentrates is rather adorable. Her own attentions were focussed on Hogwarts: A History. She's sure that there is some hint in here as to what the next Horcrux is. She quickly reminds herself of the known Horcruxes that have already been destroyed: the diary, the ring and the locket. And if Harry and Ron are successful; the cup.

That leaves three.

Surely one of them has something to do with Rowena Ravenclaw? Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup. The other two were more personal. His grandfather's ring and his own diary.

But what does that mean for the other two Horcruxes? Hermione thinks it unlikely that Voldemort would use a possession of Gryffindor for a Horcrux, though isn't ruling it out.

For now, she's focussing on finding out what item of Ravenclaw's that Voldemort might have deemed worthy of holding part of his soul. Hermione is already very familiar with the Hogwarts' founder, having always found the intelligent witch fascinating. She remembers when she first found out she was a witch and did initial reading on the school, she always assumed she would be sorted into Ravenclaw. Hermione's natural intellect and thirst for knowledge had always been apparent – she was always the one child in primary school that would get excited about homework.

She knows that Rowena Ravenclaw was born in Scotland, though there is little information about her childhood life. Joined together by their shared want to create a great wizarding school, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had established Hogwarts together in Rowena's home country. Hermione is also familiar with the theory that Rowena was the founder behind the location and name of Hogwarts, after a dream about a warty hog leading her to the Great Lake. But none of that information helped with any personal belongings.

Hermione sighs and turns the page, glancing over the portrait of the famous witch. She was a beautiful lady, with waves of dark hair that cascaded over her shoulder, wide brown eyes and a regal posture. In the portrait, the witch stays quite still, which is unusual for a portrait, with her hands clasped together in front of her. Several rings adorn her slim fingers, though Hermione recognises none of them as having any particular significance. Her dark hair is swept back, tucked under an ornate silver diadem in the shape of a bird, with a large oval sapphire crested in the centre.

As she's about to turn the page, she pauses. Glancing back at the portrait, Hermione looks at the diadem again.

Of course – the diadem!

Hermione recalls what she knows about the artefact. Apparently it enhanced the intelligence of the wearer, and was one of Rowena's favourite possessions until her daughter stole it and ran away. Upset about her daughter's betrayal, Rowena kept it a secret until her deathbed, when she sent the Baron who was in love with Helena to find her and bring her back. In a rage, the Baron killed Helena and then himself, and both of them returned to Hogwarts as ghosts. Apparently the diadem hadn't been seen since then.

It would make the perfect Horcrux. Which was a very imperfect situation for Hermione.

If Voldemort had actually found the diadem and made a Horcrux out of it, the chances of her finding it were nearly naught. It was known as the lost diadem of Ravenclaw for a reason.

Huffing in frustration, Hermione slams the book shut, attracting Draco's attention.

'What's wrong?' he asks.

'Nothing.'

The Slytherin sighs, shutting his own book. 'If you don't want to talk about it, just say, but don't lie to me.'

Hermione looks up at the boy beside her. 'You're right, I'm sorry.'

'Stop apologising, it's weirding me out,' Draco scolds, a small smile on his face.

'I don't see why – it's a perfectly common occurrence amongst Gryffindors to apologise,' Hermione retorts, also smiling.

Fed up of reading, Hermione crosses their little camp to where she discarded her bag next to her bed. She is halfway through checking their supplies and is just pulling the cauldron out when she hears Draco's voice from behind her. 'Let me see that cauldron.'

Hermione obliges, turning around and placing the cauldron on the ground in front of Draco.

'Can I borrow your wand a second?' he asks, his arm outstretched. Hermione pauses. This is a line they haven't crossed. As much as she has come to trust Draco, handing over her wand would be putting herself completely at his mercy. 'Come on, Hermione, just trust me.' The sound of her name passing his lips reminds her just how far they've come and she hands across the magical instrument.

Pointing her wand at the cauldron in front of him, Draco mutters, ' _engorgio,'_ and the two watch as the circular cauldron expands, stretching lengthways into an oval. Hermione's eyebrows scrunch together, confused by his actions.

'What are you-'

' _Aguamenti.'_ Water begins pouring out of the end of the wand, filling the cauldron to the top. Still confused, Hermione waits for Draco to explain. He looks at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to catch on. Noticing her bewilderment, he rolls his eyes and casts a warming charm on the water, which begins steaming slightly. 'Voila! A bath,' he says proudly, and Hermione's eyes widen slightly.

She looks at the cauldron-turned-bath and admits to herself that it does look unbelievably tempting. It had been far too long since the last time she had indulged herself in a bath, having relied on _scourgifies_ to keep her clean so far.

Draco looks at her sheepishly. 'I thought it would, you know, help you relax, umm, a bit.'

A large grin takes over her face. She never realised Draco could be so thoughtful. 'Thanks!' she says, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug. She ignores his initial embarrassed reluctance and waits for him to hug her back. Pulling away, she turns to the bath, and then back to Draco. 'Umm, could you… not look please?'

'Oh! Of course,' he replies, immediately turning around. When convinced he can't see her, Hermione strips out of her clothes and slides into the bath, relishing the feel of the hot water enveloping her form. She lets out a sigh of contentment before realising that she can't just have Draco facing away for the entire time she bathes.

Clearing her throat, she asks, 'could I please have my wand back?' Draco reaches his arm out behind him, offering the wand. 'Thanks.'

Waving it and muttering a spell, she watches as the blankets on both her and Draco's beds fly towards her creating a curtain around the bath. 'There you go, you don't have to look away now,' she says.

'Clever,' she hears Draco mutter from the other side of the blankets. 'I'm going to go back to reading, enjoy your bath.'

Hermione listens as Draco's footsteps cross back over to the log they use as a seat, and reclines back against the tub. She was going to enjoy this.

..

Draco was trying to ignore the fact that Hermione was in the bath, he really was. But the idea that she was lying naked merely a few feet away from him was hard to forget. He blames the witch for trying to kiss him and putting the idea of her in his head. And why did he have to make her a bath? Malfoy's don't do selfless things. Sure, he can use the bath when she's done, but that thought hadn't even occurred to him whilst he was transfiguring the cauldron. He stifles a sigh for what seems like the hundredth time in the past hour, running a hand through his hair.

Why can't he get the stupid Gryffindor out of his head? His dreams last night hadn't helped; he couldn't look at her lips the same way again. And he did a double take the first time he saw her neck when he awoke, almost surprised that the love-bites his dream-self left on her succulent skin weren't there.

Draco blames his desire on the lack of physical contact with a girl for quite a while. Working for the Dark Lord didn't leave a lot of time for dating. Not that Draco had ever been a particular fan of 'dating' in the traditional sense. Commitment didn't appeal to him. The closest he'd had to a proper girlfriend was Pansy, and that was more due to the influence of his mother and Pansy's persistent attentions than his own wishes. Still, she wasn't half bad in bed.

Draco cringes at his own crudeness. What's happening to him? Since when did he care about being crude?

Granger was clearly having an effect on him. All of her goody-goody Gryffindor values were changing him. And he didn't like it.

If he was the same guy he'd been this time last year, he'd just seduce her and leave. That would certainly get her out of his head. But the idea of doing that to her made his stomach ache uncomfortably. Having morals was a pain in his ass.

Trying to turn his concentration back to the book in his hands, he reads the paragraph about the Chamber of Secrets again, but still not taking any information in. Giving up, he closes the book and looks around for another outlet for his boredom. Finding nothing, he calls out, 'Hermione, I'm bored!'

When he gets no reply, he tries again. 'Hermione?'

Still hearing nothing, he feels a slight panic bubble in the pit of his stomach. Getting up and crossing over to the bath, he calls a little louder, 'Hermione?' Still nothing. His worry for her safety wars with his worry that she'd hex him for pulling back the curtain right now.

In the end, his worry for her wins, which only mildly surprises him. Pulling back the curtain, he keeps his eyes trained to the back of her bushy hair when it comes into view, avoiding looking at any visible skin. Walking around the tub, he looks at her face. Her eyes are closed, and he momentarily worried whether something could have happened to her whilst she was bathing, but then a quiet snore emits from her throat and he realises with a smile that she fell asleep.

Slowly pulling the blankets back into place, he accidentally kicks the cauldron, and immediately Hermione's eyes shoot open. A wand is to his throat before he has time to react.

'What the hell are you doing?' she demands, her damp hair clinging to her neck and back.

He holds his hands up, his eyes widening. 'Nothing! Nothing! You- you weren't responding and I got worried, I was just checking on you! I didn't see anything, I swear!'

As if only just remembering that she's naked, Hermione squeaks and grabs one of the hovering blankets, pulling it over the tub and covering her body.

Wanting to avoid further scolding, Draco turns on his heel and scarpers away, heading for his log.

'Draco, I'm not done being angry with you!' yells Hermione from behind him.

Sitting down, he grabs the first book that he can – the Tales of Beedle the Bard – and hides his face in the pages, trying desperately to get the image of Hermione's plump breasts out of his head.

..

Mortification filled Hermione at the thought that Draco had seen her naked. He claimed not to have seen anything, but Hermione knows he would have said that whether he saw anything or not.

She knows he's sitting on his log avoiding her right now. After he fled her rage, she transfigured one of the blankets into a towel, and wrapped herself in it, ensuring its security before creating a screen out of the other blanket between herself and the wizard to dry off and get changed.

Every atom of her being wills her just to avoid him for the rest of the day and sleep off her embarrassment, but she knows that's not an option. Steeling her courage, she returns both blankets to their original forms and replaces them on the beds, before walking over to the log and sitting down on it. She watches Draco from the corner of her eye, noticing his complete lack of acknowledgement of her presence. Maybe he feels almost as embarrassed as her.

Hermione shakes her head at the notion. No, that was not possible.

'Are you hungry?' she asks, picking her bag up.

After today, they only have enough food supplies to last one more day. If Harry and Ron don't get into contact by then, she will have to go on a supply run with Draco. The idea worries her slightly as, though they rarely run into trouble, should the situation arise, Draco would be wandless and would have to completely rely on Hermione. She doubts Death Eaters would treat Draco too kindly as a traitor.

Is that what he is? He still hasn't formally agreed to join the Order, but surely he still doesn't count himself as working for the Dark Lord? He can't do.

'Yes, I am,' she hears him reply.

'You're what?' she asks, having distracted herself.

Draco sends her a funny look. 'Hungry, Granger… are you alright?'

She plasters a smile to her face. 'Yeah, yeah I'm fine.' She reaches into her bag, pulling out two cans of soup. 'Do you want chicken or tomato?'

'You choose.'

Hermione heats them both up with a charm and uses her wand to open them. Passing the chicken one with a spoon to Draco, she leans against the tree behind her and tucks her knees under her, eating her soup.

'I am… sorry about earlier, by the way,' mutters Draco, avoiding eye-contact. 'I was just checking on you.'

Hermione can't stop the blush that rises to her cheeks. 'I know, it's fine.'

'That's why your face just turned the colour of the soup you're eating?' he asks cheekily.

If anything, Hermione is sure her cheeks go even redder. 'It's natural to be embarrassed,' she mumbles.

'You shouldn't be embarrassed, Granger, you have a fantastic body.'

Hermione's jaw drops and she flicks her gaze to the blonde by her side. 'You said you didn't see anything!'

Draco's chuckle comes out low and husky, and the sound shoots straight to Hermione's abdomen. 'I'm just messing with you, Hermione.'

'Just keep an eye out next time you're having a bath, Draco. I feel like I need to even up the playing field,' Hermione says, causing Draco's eyebrows to raise in surprise. Hermione finds she quite likes flirting with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hope you like this chapter. I think I'll step up Hermione and Draco's relationship in the next one! Once again, if you notice any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them!

Also to address something **Sarah855** mentioned in a review: in this Fanfiction, Narcissa isn't evil but doesn't have the ability to cast a Patronus to send to Draco, because I believe that she may feel like she is evil, and therefore wouldn't believe she has the ability to cast a Patronus, as Dark Wizards are believed to be consumed by maggots coming from their wands if they attempt to cast a Patronus. Hope that clears it up :)

Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

'Be quiet!' whispers Hermione harshly for the tenth time since they left their encampment.

'Granger, I _am_ being quiet!' Draco replies in an exasperated tone. Hermione had decided to go on the supply run a day early, rationalising that even if Potter and Weasley got into contact that day, they would need more food. Draco had agreed, until he realised that that meant leaving the safety of the camp wandless and completely relying on Hermione for protection. Being so dependent on another person did not leave Draco feeling too comfortable. But at least it's Hermione. He does trust her.

'Then stop talking!'

Draco bites back his irritated response, realising it's futile to argue with the witch. Instead, he just walks next to her, holding her arm like the man whose face he wears would. Draco had never used Polyjuice Potion himself, but Hermione had insisted that it was a precaution they should definitely take whilst in public. Draco found himself agreeing… until he had tasted the vile potion. It had felt like his skin was melting off, bubbling in an excruciating fashion, with his blood turning to liquid fire. But then it had been over and he suddenly looked like a thirty-year-old brunette with a large covering of facial hair. Hermione had morphed from a petite, bushy-haired brunette, into a taller, leggy blonde with deep blue eyes. It had been weirder for Draco to see Hermione transform than it had been to see his own reflection. Suddenly the witch he'd spent almost every minute of the past three weeks with altered completely.

'Don't you think it would be weirder if we weren't talking?' demands Draco in a hushed tone, his eyes flicking around the faces of the shoppers walking down the streets. There are fewer people than Draco expected, so he assumes it must be a weekday, but he'd lost track of the date a long time ago.

'Oh, you're right… okay what would a couple talk about?'

Draco sends Hermione a strange look, having to remind himself not to flinch at the blonde locks cascading down her sides. With a smirk and an eye trained on her face, Draco says, 'that was some hot sex last night, baby.'

Hermione's eyes bulge so far out of her face, Draco could have sworn she turned into a cartoon for a moment. Spluttering something incomprehensible, Hermione's eyes stay wide. Unable to maintain that guffaw that explodes out of him, Draco bends over, withdrawing his arm from hers.

'I'm sorry… I had to… your face! Amazing.'

Regaining her senses, Hermione flicks out her hand and slaps him lightly on the arm. 'Don't do that!'

Still laughing, Draco says, 'I'm sorry, _honey,_ ' batting his eyelashes with a faux mask of innocence.

Groaning, Hermione mutters, 'is it too late to change the plan to us _not_ pretending to be a couple?'

Slipping his arm back through Hermione's Draco shakes his head. 'Yes. Besides, this is far too much fun, dear. Besides, no one seems to suspect a thing.'

Muttering unintelligible words under her breath, which Draco assumes aren't complimentary, Hermione begins pulling him towards the local supermarket again. The two had originally apparated to a small coastal town to find two people to impersonate and then changed location to be sure not to be recognised in their new forms. If it had been up to Draco, they would have just broken into a store in the middle of the night, taken what they needed and left, but Hermione was unsurprisingly against that idea, saying that whist she has the money to pay for supplies, she will not resort to theft. playing field,'ne'ry and Ron don'the beds, before walking over to the

The doors opening automatically on their approach, the two walk into the store. It's large enough that it should have all that they are looking for.

Draco hadn't been into many muggle food stores. He hadn't been into a whole lot of wizard food stores either, for that matter. They had servants to go shopping for them back at the Manor. His eyes scan the shelves directly ahead, surprised by the variety of food on offer, all in neat packaging. Most of what the two had eaten over the past few days had come from cans.

'Okay, let's just get what we need and get out of here.' Hermione thrusts a basket into Draco's free hand and begins pulling him around the store, mentally checking things off her list as she throws cans and packets into the basket. Draco watches her with a weird sense of wonder at her efficiency, and for a very odd, very brief moment he imagines the two of them in a different world, in the same position, only without the disguises and without the pretence. Just simply together, enjoying each other's company. But then the moment ends and Draco is dragged back to reality, left with an aching sense of desire for that simpler alternate world.

'I think that's everything. Do you need anything?' asks Hermione, turning to him. Draco shakes his head, following her to the check out, where a bubbly red-head happily scans their items, nattering on about the lovely weather.

'But I don't think I've seen you two around before, are you new to the area?' the clerk asks, turning her gaze away from the items to the two.

Feeling Hermione stiffen beside him, Draco smoothly replies, 'we're just visiting. We have family down here.' He plasters what he hopes is a warm smile across his face, and is rewarded by the red-head returning to scanning, saying something about how it's a lovely area and they should come more often. Draco nods along, helping Hermione to pack the bags.

Once clear from the store, Hermione breathes a sigh of relief. 'Let's just get out of here.' Putting the shopping bags discreetly into her bag of holding, Hermione grabs Draco's arm and drags him down an alley way. 'You ready?' Draco nods, and the familiar fish-hook feeling of apparition pulls him back to their little camp.

..

Hermione finds herself feeling a lot more comfortable once her feet touch back down on the forest floor. Supply runs always leave Hermione on edge, worried about being caught, despite the unlikeliness of it. Sitting down on their log, Hermione leans her head against the tree behind her, glad that they got enough supplies to at least last them another week. But of course then her treacherous thoughts lead back to the fate of Harry and Ron. What if they don't get in contact within the next week? What if something happened to them? They told her not to contact them in case it compromises them, but she can't go much longer without contact. It'll drive her insane.

Draco sits down next to her, still wearing the face of the man they stole a hair from an hour ago. 'How much longer will the potion last?' he asks.

'Probably not too much longer, most doses last about an hour.'

Hermione watches Draco run a hand across his face, feeling the facial hair. 'Not a fan of having a beard?' she asks, amused.

'It's strange,' he replies, continuing to stroke the hair. Hermione smiles at him, finding herself extremely comfortable in his presence. 'Not as strange as you being blonde, though,' he says, eyeing her.

Suddenly oddly self-conscious, Hermione twirls a strand of the long blonde hair around her finger. 'Really?'

'Yeah, I never thought I'd say this, but I miss your bushy hair.' Surprised by his admission, Hermione doesn't notice herself slowly leaning towards him. Or him slowly leaning towards her. Until suddenly they're so close that they'd be breathing each other's air… if Hermione could remember how to breathe.

'Hermione?' Draco mumbles.

'Mmm?'

'I'm about to kiss you. You're not going to freak out on me this time are you?'

'N-' Before the word is out of her mouth, Draco's lips are on hers. Her arms come up around his neck as naturally as if they'd done it a thousand times before. Draco's own hands tangle in her hair.

Hermione feels the tickle of his beard against her chin, but there is no desire to laugh as his teeth lightly bite her bottom lip. Hermione gasps at the sensation, and Draco seizes the opportunity, his tongue sliding smoothly into her mouth, teasing her own until Hermione is so caught up in the feeling that she can't remember how to breathe properly. She feels the effects of the polyjuice fade rather than sees it, noticing how the slightly rough feeling of Draco's hair fades into the smooth tufts of blonde she is so used to. She feels his beard fade away, his hands losing their coarse touch, replaced by soft skin. His hands cup her face, pulling her closer to him.

Almost losing her balance, Hermione falls forwards slightly, her hand coming to rest on Draco's hip as she attempts to regain her balance. Instead of allowing her to recover, Draco pulls her towards him again, guiding one of Hermione's legs over his, resulting in her straddling the wizard.

If the whole situation didn't already feel crazy, Hermione might have been embarrassed by such a brazen mood. Instead she just settles herself into her new position, kissing Draco back with enough passion to leave him gasping for breath as well. His hands back in her hair – _her_ hair, not the blonde woman's hair, he tugs backwards, causing Hermione to reveal the left side of her neck. Draco makes use of the new target, suckling and nipping above her pulse point, until soft moans of pleasure are pulled from the witch. Hermione writhes under Draco's ministrations, and in a bold move Hermione didn't think she had the courage to do, she rolls her hips, grinding against the bulge that is developing in Draco's trousers.

Draco groans softly against her throat and moves his face to reclaim her lips.

Hermione had always felt unnatural and awkward kissing. The few times she'd done it in the past had been in quiet corners with Viktor Krum, and she'd always felt too shy to fully let herself go. The Bulgarian wizard had never seemed to mind; actually seeming to prefer her tentative responses.

But kissing Krum was nothing like kissing Draco. Kissing Krum had felt arbitrary; a necessary part of their short relationship. But kissing Draco – Hermione feels alive! Her every nerve tingles with energy, leaving her skin overly sensitive to Draco's touch. For his part, Draco seemed to be using every ounce of his skill. Hermione wasn't unaware of Draco's reputation at Hogwarts, knowing that he certainly wasn't shy when it came to girls and having heard many whispered conversations about his abilities. Hermione just never thought she'd be on the receiving end of his attentions.

Hermione trails her hand down his chest, feeling his muscled torso through his thin t-shirt, and all she can think is how much better it would be if the material wasn't in the way.

Her hands skimming down to the hem of his shirt, Hermione fists the material, contemplating what Draco's reaction would be if she yanked it from his body. Well, that's obvious; he'd do the same to her. Daunted slightly by the idea, Hermione releases her hold on his shirt, but her hands suddenly aren't important as Draco's lips find their way to Hermione's collarbone, trailing soft kisses over all the available skin. Sighing in contentment, Hermione lightly scrapes her nails against the back of the blonde's neck, receiving a soft shudder in response. Draco is just in the process of repeating his path back up her neck when a bright light in Hermione's peripheral vision causes her to jump away.

Turning to see the source of the interruption, Hermione hears Draco's angry mutter of, 'that _bloody_ stag!'

Recognising Harry's Patronus, Hermione feels a large weight lift off of her shoulders. Her best friend's voice begins to permeate the air. 'Hermione, sorry it took so long. We completed the task and are at a new camp. Please respond so we can send the location.'

'They're safe,' she whispers. And then, in a slightly louder voice, 'they're actually safe.'

Grabbing her wand, Hermione quickly casts her own Patronus, and sends it off with a message letting the boys know that they're safe as well and are awaiting the new location.

That done, Hermione turns to look at their small camp, wondering what they should take with them. The beds would be useful, as the others were left behind when the snatchers arrived. Hermione also finds herself tempted to shrink the log that her and Draco had been using as a sofa, having found it extremely comfortable over the past few days. The log that Draco is still sitting on.

'What's wrong?' she asks, feeling her eyebrows pull together in confusion. It's good news – Harry and Ron are safe!

'Nothing's wrong. Let's just pack up.' With that, Draco stands and turns to his bed, folding the blanket.

Confused but not wanting to push, Hermione begins shrinking everything and putting it into her bag of holding. She'd deal with Draco's suddenly sour mood later.

It's not long before Harry responds with the coordinates of their location, and after consulting her map, Hermione recognises it as somewhere they've stayed before, which allows her to apparate directly to their camp.

Relieved that everyone is safe and she's going to be reunited with her friends, Hermione scans their camp one last time before being sure she has everything and turning to Draco. 'You ready?'

She offers her hand out to him. Without saying anything, and without looking at her, he takes it.

Slightly upset but pushing her emotions down, Hermione apparates them away from their little home.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Sorry it has taken me a bit longer to update, I've been quite busy the past couple of weeks. This chapter is a bit shorter again, but hopefully the development in Draco and Hermione's relationship makes up for that! I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for a while. It's my first real attempt at a bit of smut, so let me know what you think of it!

I'll try not to make you guys wait so long for the next update. Please leave a review!


	9. Chapter 9

Draco watches as Hermione leaps into Ron's arms, having apparated almost directly into their small camp. Feeling an unknown emotion inside of him like a wave of lava in his stomach, Draco looks away. What was that? He's never felt that emotion before. After being put down by the redhead, Hermione strides into Harry's outstretched arms. Draco prides himself on his ability to read people. There is a clear difference in the way Hermione acts with Harry to Ron. With Harry, the platonic nature of the friendship is obvious, but with Ron, the unresolved sexual tension makes both of them slightly awkward.

And Draco doesn't know whether to be relieved that the sexual tension clearly hasn't been relieved between them, or be angry that it's there in the first place. He settles on being confused as to why it even bothers him. All he did was kiss the witch; it's not like he's never done that before.

Crossing his arms, he watches as Hermione's momentary relief at seeing the boys again dissipates into anger. 'How could you do that to me?' she demands, poking Harry hard in the chest. Draco doesn't even bother trying to hide his satisfied smile seeing Potter practically squirm under Hermione's angry glare.

'We're sorry Hermione, it was just something we had to do…'

'Yeah Mione, we didn't want to risk bringing you in to it.'

Despite the protests, Hermione doesn't seem even mildly content. 'Why? It's not like I can't handle myself!' For some reason, Draco finds he likes this side of Hermione, with her bushy hair flying wildly around her face like a halo, her skin glowing, her eyes twinkling with unhidden fury.

'Yeah, but you… you know, you had Malfoy with you, we couldn't trust him,' argues Harry, keeping his voice calm.

'Harry, Malfoy is on our side! He saved all of our lives! And that doesn't change the fact that you left me without contact for _days_! I had no idea whether you were alive or dead or captured!'

'We know it was tough, but we destroyed the cup, that's what's matters isn't it?' pipes up Ron. Draco notices his mistake before Ron even registers what he's doing. Whilst trying to calm Hermione down, Ron places what is probably meant to be a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder. Rage evident in her every feature, Hermione shoves Ron away from her.

'Don't try to act like it's all okay! You have no idea what I went through worrying about you!'

'Look we're sorry we left you with Malfoy but-'

'This is not about Malfoy! For goodness' sake Ron! Would you leave your petty house rivalries where they belong – which is _not here_ – for one goddamn minute! Look, I trust him, and you know that I have the best judgement of character out of the three of us by far.'

Draco is stunned by Hermione's admission. She trusts him? Why? He's a Death Eater. Sure, he saved her life but that could be blamed on any number of selfish reasons. Draco is still tempted to blame insanity, because he can almost feel the truth sneaking up on him, and he will do everything in his power to ignore it.

But still, he can't ignore the warm feeling that spreads through his chest listening to her defend him to her two best friends.

'Okay, Hermione, look, we're not gonna like it, but… if you trust him, Ron and I will try to do so too,' mutters Harry.

'WHA-'

'Yes we will, Ron. The git did save our lives back at Gringotts. He deserves a second chance.'

Hermione admitting her trust for Draco was one thing, but Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, the Chosen One, Gryffindor's Golden Boy, _Harry Potter_ standing up to _Ronald Weasley_ for him? Draco was almost knocked off his feet by his astonishment. A smug grin crawls across his face.

'Fine, but the git had better stop looking so arrogant or I swear I'll punch him.'

'You'll do no such thing Ronald,' scolds Hermione, her hands taking residence on her hips. Ron practically cowers under her stare. Draco tries to wipe the grin off his face. He fails. 'Now, would you two tell me how you managed to destroy the cup, please?'

Harry steps forward, clearly trying to take the brunt of Hermione's mood away from his friend. 'What about…?' He nods towards Draco, who merely rolls his eyes.

'Draco is already well aware of the Horcruxes, Harry, and can hear anything you have to say.'

Harry sends Draco an odd look, before continuing. 'Okay, well as you know Horcruxes are very difficult to destroy, the two most well-known ways being basilisk venom and fiendfyre. Well… when the snatchers showed up, instead of running away straight away, we hid and listened to them. It turns out some Death Eaters are trying to develop a method to contain fiendfyre. So… well, Ron and I managed to break into the mansion that was housing the fiendfyre, and threw the cup into it. So it's gone.'

Hermione seems to take a moment to take that information in. In had never occurred to Draco that there were places other than the Manor that the Death Eaters inhabited. He'd only met those high up in Voldemort's ranks, those that the Dark Lord wanted to keep close. He'd never wondered where the lower ranked supporters lived, and clearly it's somewhere that they've managed to contain fiendfyre, so can't be somewhere small.

'How did you break in?' she asks, looking at them. She seems to have paled slightly.

'We had some of your polyjuice potion. Watched the routine for a few days and managed to jump two of the Death Eaters. That's how we got it. It was a piece of cake,' says Harry, giving Hermione a lopsided smile.

Hermione seems to relax a little under the knowledge. Apparently she approves of their method. 'Oh! I nearly forgot! I think I've found another Horcrux,' she says. Draco's eyebrows raise. She never told him about finding another Horcrux.

'You have? Where is it?' asks Ron excitedly.

Frowning slightly, Hermione's bottom lip puckers in consideration and Draco can't stifle the memory of those soft lips against his. Pushing the thoughts aside, he listens as Hermione says, 'well I don't know where it is, but I think I know what it is.' She pauses and looks at the two boys in turn. 'What do you two know about Ravenclaw's diadem?'

..

Hermione finally understands Draco's frustration over the first couple of days they were alone. She was avoiding him, and now he's avoiding her.

She doesn't know what she did wrong, but he's been in a sour mood since they joined Harry and Ron again. She knows that the three don't get along, but had thought that Harry's willingness to get past old rivalries would mean something to him. But the blonde had been evasive of her for the whole day.

Eyeing him out of the corner of her eye, she watches as he settles into one of the transfigured beds with one of her potions books. He looks engrossed. Actually, risking a proper glance at him, she decides he looks like someone _pretending_ to be engrossed.

Sighing, realising it's a fight for another day, Hermione returns to her job of sorting through all of the supplies. Harry and Ron had a lot of food left over, and combined with the food that she and Draco had bought earlier that day, they had plenty to last them all for at least two weeks. Harry and Ron had managed to pretty much take everything apart from the tent from their previous encampment. Transfiguring a tent is quite difficult, so Hermione had suggested they just sleep in the open air, like she had done with Draco since the split. Blankets and warming charms did the job of keeping the heat in. The only bonus of the tent was privacy. But Hermione had spent enough time on the run with Harry and Ron to not care about privacy between them. And after what transpired with Draco before leaving their own little camp, Hermione guessed she shouldn't worry about privacy with him either.

If things weren't awkward enough between Hermione and Draco, Hermione had the added task of dealing with Ron, who hadn't left her alone since she returned. After his initial apologies, he'd been very keen to find out her Hermione had gotten on with Draco, which of course resulted in Hermione's face mimicking a tomato. Fortunately Ron isn't very perceptive, and didn't notice her clear embarrassment about the subject.

As if on cue, the red-head walks over to where Hermione is kneeling on the floor, putting the rest of the supplies back into the bags of holding. After the close call with snatchers recently, Hermione had decided to split the food evenly between four bags of holding, just in case the four of them got split up.

She still found it strange how easily she'd accepted Draco into their small group. He hasn't formally agreed to join their group yet, but Hermione is sure he won't go back to the Death Eaters now. Whether that means he will join their hunt for Horcruxes, Hermione doesn't know, but she can't smother the slight optimism that thinks he will stay.

'Have you finished?' Ron asks. Hermione takes a moment before turning to face her friend.

'Yes, why?' Hermione can practically feel Ron's awkwardness radiating off of him.

'I- urr, wondered if we could, umm, talk?'

'Sure.'

Ron waits a moment, glancing at Draco, who still seems immersed in his book. 'Umm, in private?'

Getting up and brushing the mud off of her knees, Hermione motions for Ron to lead the way, taking a final glance at Draco before leaving their little encampment.

The two walk in silence for a little way. Harry had gone to be alone with his thoughts about half an hour beforehand, but he went in the other direction so the two will be alone. When she realises she can't take the discomfort anymore, Hermione asks, 'what is it, Ron?'

Ron stops in his tracks, turning to face the witch. 'Look, Hermione… the past few days have been hard for me, too. I know that you were worried about me and Harry, but we were worried about you, too… _I_ was worried about you…'

Hermione can feel where this conversation is going and her natural flight instinct urges her to turn and flee before either of them can experience any more embarrassment. 'Ron, I-'

'No, please let me finish, Mione.' He takes a deep breath. 'I'm just gonna say what we've both been avoiding saying for quite a while now. I know you feel it too.'

'Ron please-'

'I like you, Hermione. I don't want to just be your friend anymore. I don't know how much longer we're going to get, what with the war coming up and all, and I don't want to wait until it's too late… I know you feel the same.'

'Ron-'

Before she can say another word, Ron steps towards her, his large hands cupping her face. Hermione tries to pull away, but his strong grip keeps her still, angling her face up to meet his. He presses his lips firmly against hers, enthusiasm covering for his lack of skill. But Hermione can't find it in her to return the kiss, and finds herself praying for a distraction so she can get out of there.

'You know, Weasel, maybe you should wait for a girl to tell you she wants to kiss you before you shove that ugly face of yours against hers.'

..

Ron jumps away from Hermione as if she'd electrocuted him, his confused face turning into one of hatred as his eyes connect with the icy grey ones a few metres away. 'Why you fucking ferret! What does it matter to you that me and Hermione are kissing! Besides, she wanted to anyway!'

'Are you sure about that? Because from this angle it looked like she was trying to escape.'

Ron stutters a few incomprehensible words for a moment, his face turning redder by the second, before he draws his wand and charges at the Slytherin. Draco backs up slightly until he's pressed into a tree, the tip of Ron's wand jabbing him in the side of the neck. 'What would you know about Hermione, anyway? It's bad enough she had to deal with you for the last week anyway, without you stalking her here as well.'

Having watched the two walk off together, Draco hadn't been able to curb his curiosity and had followed a few moments later. He caught up to them just in time to hear Hermione's feeble attempts to argue with the red-head. Long enough for his anger to press him into interrupting.

'Ronald Weasley you put your wand down this instant!' screams Hermione, seeming to come to her senses. Draco sends a quick glance towards the witch, noticing her slightly wild eyes.

'Why should I? The bloody perv is sticking his nose in where it's not wanted. He should just go back to his Death Eater friends already.'

Draco clenches his jaw, smothering his rage. 'Go on then, Hermione. Tell him you wanted to kiss him.'

Chocolate eyes flick uncontrollably to the wizard pressed up against the tree, worry written across her face. Ron turns his head towards her. 'Go on, Mione.'

'I- umm, what? I, yeah, I, no, I… this isn't about me! Just get away from Draco right now!'

'Draco?' Ron spits. 'Since when are you on a first name basis with Death Eaters?' he demands, his fury returning tenfold at Hermione's refusal to answer him.

'In case you hadn't noticed, Weasley, I'm kinda on your side now. Get used to it. There's no way they'll take me back now.'

Hermione crosses over to the two boys, placing a hand on Ron's chest to push him away. 'Look, Ron, this isn't the time or the place for this conversation. You need to calm down and-'

'Don't bloody-well tell me to calm down, Hermione. I guess I'll just leave you and this git here to sort things out as you seem to be best friends now.'

With that, Ron pushes himself away from the scene, shoving past Hermione's attempts to restrain him and storming off back in the direction of camp. Hermione watches him leave, sympathy in her features. Draco doesn't move, waiting for Hermione to say something.

'You shouldn't have done that. You knew it would make him mad,' she chastises, but without any real conviction in her tone.

Draco smirks slightly. 'Just get on with thanking me already from saving you from that oath. Clearly he didn't have anything on me.'

The corners of Hermione's mouth twitch, betraying her amusement. Trying to look mad, she plasters a scowl on her face, but Draco sees right through it. 'You still shouldn't have interrupted. That was hard enough for him to do without him thinking you were watching too.'

Not wanting to hear her defend the Weasel anymore, Draco pushes himself off of the tree and strides across the space between them. Ignoring his rationality, he slides his hands into her hair and brings her face up to meet him. Hermione's surprise melts away as his lips gently touch down on hers, moving slowly, drawing her out of her shyness. As Hermione's hands reach up and around the back of his neck, Draco lightly pulls away.

Hermione looks slightly dazed. 'What was that for?' she asks, looking up at him with her beautiful doe-eyes.

'I just didn't want Weasley to be the last thing on your mind before you go to bed this evening. Good night, _Hermione_ ,' he mutters sultrily before turning and stalking back to camp, leaving the bewildered witch behind him, a smirk on his face the whole walk back.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I hope you like this chapter! It's quite fun to write Draco as a bit jealous and possessive, even if he doesn't realise he is yet! As always, please review! I always want to know what you guys think :)


	10. Chapter 10

Well Draco was right about one thing. Hermione certainly didn't go to bed thinking of Ron that night. No, it was the pale-skinned, silver-tongued Slytherin that plagued her thoughts as she tossed and turned, clutching at her blanket. What are his motives? Why is he continuing to pursue her? But no matter how long her brain turned over the questions, no answers revealed themselves. She had finally succumbed to exhaustion early in the morning with thoughts of a pair of silver-grey eyes and soft lips on her mind.

Upon awakening, Hermione realises that she wasn't the only one who battled against unwanted thoughts throughout the night. Harry jolts up in his bed, sweat dripping down his forehead and soaking the collar of his t-shirt.

'What is it?' Hermione asks, racing to his side. His visions have become more regular recently, as if Voldemort's approaching mortality is causing him to unintentionally reach through the connection he has with Harry more often, showing him the inner workings of his brain. Hermione believes that the visions relate to high emotional levels in Voldemort.

Gasping, Harry says, 'Hogwarts… I saw Hogwarts.'

Hermione's brain kicks into overdrive. Her thoughts settle on two possibilities: Voldemort is going to attack Hogwarts, which is unlikely as his Death Eaters' presence in the school would make it unnecessary… or there is a Horcrux there.

'The diadem,' she whispers, then louder, 'Harry I think the diadem has been hidden in Hogwarts.'

He looks up at her, removing his hand from his head, the pain having receded from his scar. 'Why would he do that? Surely he wouldn't risk a student stumbling across it, or Dumbledore for that matter,' argues Harry.

Hermione realises he has a point. A famous missing diadem wouldn't exactly go unnoticed in that school, and Harry's ability to sense the Horcruxes should have notified him of it at some point. Plonking down on his bed next to him, Hermione sighs. 'I'm so fed up of these stinking Horcruxes.'

Smiling sympathetically at her, Harry sidles up next to her and drapes an arm across her shoulders, pulling her into his side in a comforting hug. Relaxing into his hold, Hermione lets out her breath. Harry has a way of calming her like no one else she knows. Apart from her mother. A sharp pain jolts through Hermione's chest at the thought of her mother's warm smile. She can't let herself surrender to the grief. Not now.

At this point Draco pulls the hanging blankets away from his bed. Whilst he was ignoring her, he'd asked Harry to make some curtains for his privacy. Harry had been confused, but had obliged, trying hard to accept him into their group. The blonde's eyes dart instantly to Harry's arm around Hermione and she feels suddenly self-conscious, as if caught doing something illicit. She stiffens slightly, and Harry seems to sense it, as he squeezes her closer to him.

Draco's lips twitch down momentarily before his face regains its emotionless mask. 'Good morning,' he says rigidly, leaning down to pull shoes onto his feet. 'You two are up early.'

Having spent so much time alone with him, Hermione had become more fluent in Draco-speech. Whilst his comment sounds uninterested, Hermione reads the hidden meaning behind it. He wants to know why they are up so early and why they are in bed together. And for some reason, Hermione wants to explain herself to him.

'Harry had a nightmare,' she explains, leaning out of Harry's hold and standing up. 'We think it was a vision from You-Know-Who.'

'That happens?' he asks.

Nodding, Hermione explains how Harry had been seeing Voldemort's thoughts and how it had been happening more often. Mentioning the most recent vision and her theory about it, she watches Draco's eyebrows pull together in thought. 'What is it?' she asks.

'Hmm?' he asks, looking up. 'Oh, nothing… I just thought I remembered something but I can't think of what it is.'

'Okay.'

'Can I borrow your wand?'

Without hesitating, Hermione chucks him her wand. Harry's shocked expression does not go unmissed by her.

Muttering a _scourgify,_ he cleans his clothes and body, before offering the magical instrument out to her. As she leans forwards to take it, their hands brush and Hermione feels a spark of electricity course through her body where their skin meets. Her eyes dart to his face, but either he didn't feel it, or he is very good at hiding that he felt it. Pulling away quickly, Hermione repeats his actions, feeling better now that she's clean.

Feeling awkward, Hermione avoids looking at the Slytherin, her eyes falling to rest on Ron's cot. Ron's _empty_ cot.

'Where's Ron?' she asks, looking towards Harry. As if only just noticing his friend's absence himself, a confused expression crosses his face.

'I have no idea. He never wakes up before us. And he never goes off by himself without making a fuss first.' Getting out of bed, suddenly seeming worried, Harry looks around. 'I'm going to go look for him.'

'How?' asks Draco.

'He probably hasn't gone far. A simple 'point me' spell should do the trick.' Grabbing his wand from beneath his pillow, he holds it flat in his hand. At his incantation, the rod spins, pointing away from their camp. Harry sighs. 'I'll be back soon.' He starts walking in the direction of the wand, and soon Hermione and Draco are alone. A situation that she does not want to be in.

Turning towards her bed, she begins straightening out the blanket, refusing to acknowledge the wizard. That is, until his arms snake around her waist from behind. Trying to jump away, Hermione fails and turns in the blonde's arms, struggling against his strong grip. 'What are you doing?' she demands, trying to calm the hammering of her heart, worried that if it gets any louder, he'll hear it.

'Just what you want me to do,' he says in a low voice, tightening his grip.

'Maybe you should take your own advice and wait for a girl to tell her she wants you to do something before you do it,' she says, her anger rising.

'My ability to read a girl's wants is far superior to the Weasel's,' he says, leaning slowly toward her.

Every bone in Hermione's body urges her to lean to meet his face, but her mind wins out. Leaning back, she asks, 'what are you doing? Why are you doing this?'

Instead of looking rejected, Draco just looks thoughtful. He loosens his grip slightly but Hermione is no longer fighting to get away. 'I… don't know,' he admits, his eyes showing a level of honesty Hermione didn't realise he was capable of. 'It's driving me insane but I want you Granger. Fuck it, I _need_ you. And it's bloody annoying.'

Shocked by his confession, Hermione hesitates momentarily before slamming her lips against his, relishing the soft feel. He growls, matching her passion, pushing her up against a nearby tree. Her hands are everywhere; in his hair, on his shoulders, running over his back, his stomach. For his part, Draco isn't holding back. Trailing his hands down her waist, he runs them over her hips and behind her, cupping her butt. Hermione gasps, and Draco takes the opportunity to entwine his tongue with hers, his skill evident. His hands move down, around her thighs and in a surge of strength, he lifts her up, guiding her legs to wrap around his waist. He supports her against the tree, his hands holding her steady around the waist. Excited by the new position, Hermione dips her head to Draco's visible neck, trying to repeat what he did to her the other day. She feels inexperienced and awkward, but the wizard's hitched breathing suggests otherwise, and his fingers dig into her waist. Her nails drag slightly against his scalp as she tilts his head further. A deep, masculine groan is drawn from deep inside him and he pulls away from the tree, supporting his weight on his hips, holding her close to his body. He dumps her down on the nearest bed – _her_ bed – and finds her lips again.

Hermione's legs are still wrapped around him, and the position offers a few advantages. Grinding up against him, unable to curb her basic desires, a joint moan is elicited from the two. His cold skin makes her shiver as his hands crawl under her shirt and onto the thin material of her bra, kneading in a practised manner. The wizard is driving her insane!

Breathing too quickly to continue kissing him, Hermione pulls back slightly, and Draco's mouth trails down her jaw to find her neck. As his teeth scrape lightly against her pulse point, Hermione is caught in a moment of bliss, and she thinks that no matter how much she practises, she'll never get as good at the act as Draco.

He pulls back for a moment, providing Hermione with a moment of clarity, clearing up her brain. 'Draco,' she whispers.

'Mmm?' he asks, raising his eyes to hers, the hunger in them undeniable, causing Hermione to almost regret her next words.

'We need to stop.'

'Why?' he asks, his lips drawing together in a slight pout. Hermione can't help but find the expression adorable on him.

'Because Harry could be back with Ron at any minute. And I wouldn't want to be you if they found us in this position.'

Groaning, Draco concedes, standing up. The cold that rushes to fill the gap between their bodies causes Hermione to shiver, and she just wants him back in her arms.

'But don't think this is over, Granger,' he says as he walks away.

'Hermione,' she yells at his back.

'Okay, Hermione.' She can hear the smile in his voice.

..

What is he doing? He's getting too caught up in this witch. But it's not his fault. She's intoxicating. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to touch her at every point in the day. When they'd re-joined Potter and Weasley, Draco had been worried that something would happen between her and Ron, and it had driven him away from her. But seeing how she had reacted to his kiss and reassured him that the feelings were very much one-sided between them.

And suddenly he was struggling to find a valid reason to keep away from her. Or maybe he didn't want to find a valid reason to keep away from her.

And Draco realises that he will succumb to his desires again.

Unfortunately Hermione was right about Harry and Ron returning, as they walked back into the camp not two minutes after he had pulled away from her, the ginger wearing a face of thunder, apparently not having forgiven Draco for interrupting him last night. Draco doesn't bother hiding his smug grin at the daggers the Weasel sends his way.

Hermione demands to know where Ron went, but Draco doesn't care enough to listen to his response, instead enjoying how his witch's hands move to her hips of their own accord, adopting the stance of the scolding mother.

He pales slightly under her glare, but looks angrily at her nonetheless, not forgetting how she had refused to stand up for him last night. Some of the ginger's words get through to Draco. Most of them being 'bloody ferret,' and, 'right twat,' along with something about making him leave.

Satisfaction fills him as Hermione defends him, saying that he's helping them. And he recognises the truth in her words. The thought of leaving the trio hadn't even entered his mind recently. He feels like a part of their mission, and a big part of him wants them to succeed. Voldemort's downfall would make Draco very happy, especially as it would release his mother from his hold.

He hadn't thought of his mother in a while, trying to ignore the ache in his chest when the idea of her being stuck in their Manor with the Dark Lord. Draco vows there and then that he will get her out, and that she will not suffer under the hands of the Dark Lord. He supposes if he can save his father too, at least it would pacify his mother, although he personally couldn't care less what happened to the man.

If it weren't for him, he wouldn't have got so caught up in being a Death Eater. He wouldn't have been asked to murder Dumbledore. He wouldn't have been tortured for failing. He wouldn't have had to spend hours fixing up that _bloody_ cabinet in the Room of Requirements, surrounded by all that crap-

'Wait,' he says, not bothering to register that Ron is in the middle of speaking. Not that he would have cared even if he had realised.

'What the bloody hell do you want, ferret?' he demands, turning his freckled face on the Slytherin.

'Ron!' Hermione scolds. 'What is it, Draco?' Draco ignores the foreign flutter he feels in his stomach as her chocolate doe eyes turn towards him.

'The diadem.'

'What about it?' she asks, looking confused.

'I know where it is. It's in the Room of Requirements.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update! I started a new job on Monday, so have been quite busy. I'll still try to update regularly, but it'll probably be every other week at most. Sorry!

I hope you enjoy this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it! Please let me know what you think, and as always, if you see any mistakes, just let me know. Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

The Room of Requirements. It makes so much sense now. Hermione tries to ignore her embarrassment at not realising the truth sooner. She's supposed to be the brightest witch of her age and the disappearing room in Hogwarts hadn't even occurred to her. Of course, without Draco's insight, they probably wouldn't have known what to ask the room for anyway, so the knowledge would have been redundant, but she wishes she had been the one to find the location.

But knowing the whereabouts of diadem doesn't help much when the reality of getting into Hogwarts is bleak. The place was infiltrated with Death Eaters at the beginning of the year – Draco had spent the first term of school there, but had been home for the holidays when he got mixed up with them. Hermione can't stifle her small sense of unease at possibly taking Draco with them to Hogwarts. She doesn't like the idea of leaving him behind but worries that amongst all of those Death Eaters, he'll return to Voldemort's side. She shakes her head. No, she trusts Draco. Draco has outright admitted that he's fighting against Voldemort now.

Busying herself with preparations for breaking into Hogwarts, she turns her thoughts away from the Slytherin – a place where they have been focused for far too long – and back onto war plans. Even if the four of them can sneak into Hogwarts, and by some miracle reach the Room of Requirements unnoticed, there is still the problem of destroying the diadem. They no longer have the Sword of Gryffindor after Griphook betrayed them, and the fiendfyre they used to destroy the cup was at a Death Eater safe house. Not to mention that even if they manage to get into Hogwarts and destroy the diadem, there's still the matter of getting out of the school and finding the other two Horcruxes.

Hermione flops onto the bed, her head in her hands. It's hopeless. Hopeless.

'Don't tell me you're giving up now.' Hermione sits up immediately, her eyes locking onto the silver-grey ones across the small space. 'Especially not after I showed off my superior wit in finding out where the Horcrux is hidden,' he says, smirking. Despite her sour mood, Hermione rolls her eyes at the boy. His ego is unwavering. 'Budge up.'

Hermione shuffles across her bed, making room Draco to plonk down next to her. Draco's hand lifts up to her face, and he swipes a thumb under her eye, pulling away to reveal a drop of water on sitting on his skin. She hadn't even realised she was crying.

'Now, no making fun of me for this. I'm sure it doesn't surprise you to find out that I don't exactly comfort people a lot.' Before Hermione can express her confusion, Draco opens his arms and pulls her into his embrace. She's not sure what confuses her more: the fact that Draco Malfoy is hugging her or the fact that she feels so safe in his arms.

Deciding to ignore how unusual the act is, she relaxes into him, allowing his hand to softly brush down her hair. Unlike all of their interactions before, which usually involved some sort of argument followed by a hot make-out session, this was purely based on the need to be close. There was no urge to throw themselves at each other. No undeniable sexual tension. Just the warmth of each other's bodies and the consolation of the other's touch.

Draco pulls back slightly, placing his lips softly down on her forehead. 'As much as I'm enjoying this, your friends will be back soon and I don't want to be hexed by Ron.'

Hermione pauses, looking at the blonde funnily.

'What?' he asks.

'You called him Ron.'

His blonde eyebrows pull together. 'Dammit you're right. I meant I don't want to be hexed by the Weasel.'

She lightly hits him on his arm, grudgingly pulling out of his embrace.

'Back to war plans, Hermione.'

..

Draco keeps sneaking glances at Hermione. He knows he's doing it and he's pretty sure she knows he's doing it. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't stop himself from looking at her. What is it about her that has him so enraptured?

Obviously, she's beautiful. That much was clear to him the moment he got passed his blood-prejudice and realised that the lies he'd been fed from birth were utter bullshit.

Not to mention that she was possibly the only one in their year who could challenge him in classes. He hadn't realised how much he valued intelligence in a witch until he'd attempted to date Pansy Parkinson. The dumb, ditsy type definitely isn't for him.

And she's kind. He would never admit it out loud, but it was actually nice to have a breather from hanging around with Slytherins, constantly wondering whether they are planning something against you. Her honest, kind nature was actually rather attractive. That was a surprise even to him. Who knew that Draco Malfoy had a soft-spot for kindheartedness?

And she can keep him on his toes in a fight. No matter how kind he thought her to be, she wouldn't back down in an argument. It always annoyed the hell out of him in school, because he could handle the Dunderhead Duo's slow responses, but Gryffindor's Princess had a tongue of fire when backed into a corner.

She's also incredibly brave. The sorting hat didn't make a mistake when putting her into Gryffindor. The fact that they'd been hunting Horcruxes and fighting Death Eaters all year proved that. And then for her to take him in when he was hit by his father's curse was brave in itself. Kind and brave. She couldn't left him. She could have thought that the risk of him turning against him was too great and decided not to care for him. But she didn't. She was brave enough to stand up to her two best friends to take him with them. Brave enough to deal with the possibility that he could kill them when he got the chance.

This time Hermione outright catches him staring, but he doesn't look away. Instead he relishes the stolen moment, the intimacy behind her eyes almost more than he can bare. When precisely did she worm her way into his heart the way she has? He doesn't know. But he realises something then. He realises that the small space between them is too much. He realises that he never wants to be away from her. He realises that he can't stand the idea of leaving her after this war. He realises that he lo-

'Hermione?'

Harry's voice cuts into the moment, breaking the spell between them.

Hermione's eyes snap towards her friend. 'Hmm? What was that, Harry?'

Sending her a bewildered expression, he says, 'I asked whether you thought it would be possible to get into Hogsmeade? If we could, we could try the entrance to Hogwarts from Honeyduke's? Or the Shrieking Shack?'

Back in war-mode, Hermione turns to look at the map. It's a strange map. It shows where everyone is in Hogwarts. Draco thinks he remembers Hermione calling it the Marauder's Map. Hermione looks deep in thought. 'It's possible,' she says, tapping her wand absentmindedly against her chin. 'Certainly better than any of the ideas we've had so far. There will almost certainly be Death Eaters in Hogsmeade, but probably less than there are in Hogwarts. If we go at night, there will probably only be a few around. With the invisibility cloak, we might be able to sneak in unnoticed.'

Draco doesn't even bother to register his surprise at the fact that the trio have an invisibility cloak. It would explain how they seemed to get around Hogwarts unnoticed all the time. No doubt it belongs to Potter.

'How would we all fit in it? It's hard enough with just the three of us. If Malfoy's gonna be there too then-'

'Wait, so you don't mind Draco coming?' Hermione asks, looking at Ron with surprise.

The ginger looks between the two. 'Well, there aren't many other options. I don't trust him enough to leave him alone. And you trust him enough to bring him along. Besides, if he really is on our side, then an extra wand against the Death Eaters wouldn't be bad.'

Trying to hide his surprise at the Weasley's uncharacteristically sensible viewpoint, Draco instead picks on the faults in his admission. 'One problem there, Weasley; I don't have a wand.'

Instead of admitting to being wrong, the ginger instead just looks at Harry, who nods as if in understanding. Harry reaches for the bag of holding he carries with him and reaches into it. He chucks something at the blonde, who catches it easily with his Seeker's reflexes. Looking down, Draco realises that it's a wand. 'But when did you-'

'We ran into a few Death Eaters whilst looking for the fiendfyre. It made sense to pick you up a wand. We just didn't trust you enough to give you it straight away. Then Mione willingly gave you hers to borrow and she's the best judge of character out of the three of us. So I guess that means we're going to have to trust you too,' explains Harry in a matter-of-fact tone.

'Umm, thanks,' Draco replies, staring at the wand. It's different to his. It's elm rather than hawthorn, and it's a bit shorter than his. Still, it feels compliant enough. He gives it a wave, performing a simple levitating spell on a glass on the table. The glass raises into the air and lands again easily.

'Glad it works for you,' replies Harry.

Throughout the exchange, Hermione just watches the two bewilderedly. Draco wonders what's going on in her mind. Is she happy that he seems to be getting on with Harry? Is she confused? Probably confused.

'Okay, so we have a plan, sort of, so… when do you want to do this thing?' asks Ron, breaking the awkwardness.

Everyone looks to Hermione, who meets eyes with everyone before saying, 'how about tomorrow night?'

..

Everyone had followed Draco's example and made curtains surrounding their beds out of blankets the night before and Hermione was quite glad for the privacy. She'd gotten used to having no secrecy around Harry and Ron, but was actually enjoying some time to herself. Just as the thought crosses her mind, she hears the curtains behind her being pulled back.

Flipping over in bed, she notices Draco's shadowy figure against the moonlight, his white-blonde hair glowing, creating a halo around his angled face.

'What is it?' she asks, sitting up and pulling her blanket with her, suddenly conscious of the fact that she's just wearing a long t-shirt and underwear.

'Nothing,' he says, standing next to her bed. 'I thought you'd be asleep.'

'And if I was?' she asks.

Without saying anything, Draco slowly climbs into the bed next to her.

'Draco, what are you-'

He meets their mouths softly, stifling her questions. Hermione is thrown off by the tenderness between each pull of their lips. There is no urgency between them, no desire to rush anything. Draco slowly guides Hermione to lie back down on the bed, leaning over her. Every inch of Hermione feels alive, electricity coursing through her body. She is aware of every millimetre where her skin meets Draco's. She feels the familiar touch of magic in the air, and realises that Draco had cast a wandless, wordless silencing charm. She forgets how powerful he is sometimes.

She lifts her hands, looping them around Draco's neck. She opens her mouth, allowing Draco's tongue to playfully entwine with her own. She moans lightly in contentment. She didn't know Draco could be so soft, so affectionate.

'Draco, I-'

'Shush,' he says, lightly trailing his lips across her jaw and down her neck. Her heart flutters. His actions are doing strange things to her. Warmth floods her body, pooling in her centre. She's never wanted someone so much.

Feeling emboldened, she slides her hands under his t-shirt, trailing her fingertips across his toned stomach. He shudders lightly. She lightly grips the bottom of his t-shirt and tugs upwards. Understanding, he sits up and pulls the top off, revealing his muscled torso. Hermione can't help but feel ugly in comparison. She knows her body isn't awful, but it's nothing compared to the man in front of her. There's not an ounce of fat on him. He is just perfectly sculptured.

Draco smirks. 'Don't go swooning on me now, Granger. I'm just starting to have fun.'

Instead of rising to the bait, she just reaches up and pulls him back to her, crushing her lips against his. She trails her fingernails lightly across his shoulders and down his back. Draco groans lightly against her mouth. Feeling more in control, she shifts until her body is directly underneath the Slytherin's and her legs are on either side of his body, cradling him against her. Draco seems to approve of the new position, lightly rubbing his body against hers in a way that soon has Hermione writhing beneath him. 'Hermione,' he mumbles huskily. 'Hermione, if you don't stop wiggling like that, I'm not going to be able to stop myself.'

Hermione opens her eyes, meeting Draco's lustful gaze. 'Maybe… that's not such a bad thing.'

Draco's eyes widen slightly in surprise. 'Are you sure?' he asks.

Hermione can tell that she's scared. She can feel it in her stomach. But more than that she knows she wants it. She wants Draco. She nods at him, feeling the truth behind the action.

Draco pauses for a moment more before kissing Hermione again, his hands roaming her body under her shirt. Feeling scared again but pushing the emotion down, Hermione leans up and hurriedly removes her shirt. She's bare underneath, her only remaining clothing being her thin panties. Draco's eyes dip down to her chest, and Hermione represses the compulsion to cover herself up with her hands. For a small, terrifying moment, Hermione expects Draco to laugh at her body and admit that he had been using her the whole time. But instead, he just smiles softly and whispers, 'beautiful,' before claiming her lips again.

Hermione smiles against his mouth, warmth replacing the cold fear that had been building up. She can feel how ready Draco is, both metaphorically and physically – the thin clothing between their bodies doesn't do well to hide his growing bulge. Hermione tries not to panic at the thought of her inexperience. She's never gone this far with a guy before. She pushes softly against Draco's chest, separating them slightly. 'Draco… I've… I've never, umm… I've never done this before.'

Draco just smiles down at her, his features soft. 'Don't worry about that, you have no need to be embarrassed. Just… do what feels natural.'

Hermione is once again blown away by Draco's compassion. How could he have hidden this kindness for so long? A thought occurs to Hermione then. Did- did she bring this side out in him?

Smiling at the thought, she removes her underwear, fully exposing herself to Draco's shameless staring. The desire in his eyes fills Hermione with confidence.

Following her example, Draco removes the rest of his clothing, and Hermione's eyes lower to view the rest of his body. Her mouth goes dry. How could she fit _that_ into her? It's so big! But as daunting as the idea is, Hermione can't help but feel excited. She's really going to do this.

Draco shifts his body until he's lined up with her entrance. He leans down to kiss her again before pushing slowly into her. A sharp pain meets the penetration and Hermione whimpers slightly. Draco pauses, easing the pain by distracting her with kisses to her neck. He lowers his mouth, kissing down her collar bone. He bends down further, kissing down the side of one of Hermione's breasts. Moaning slightly, Hermione guides his head towards her nipple and he takes into his mouth, suckling lightly. She moans louder. It feels so good.

One of his hands comes up to her other breast, making sure not to leave it unattended. Hermione writhes under his ministrations, and lifts her hips until the meet his. He shudders slightly. The pain dulls and instead a throbbing pleasure is left in her core. Hermione moans loudly, suddenly glad of the silencing charm Draco cast earlier. Content that Hermione is no longer in pain, Draco pulls back and thrusts into her again, causing Hermione to gasp in contentment. She lifts her hips to meet his, rolling them slightly and Draco groans, his mouth still wrapped around her nipple. He leans up to capture her mouth again, the hand that was caressing her breast trailing down between their bodies until his thumb rubs her clitoris. Hermione can't contain the cry of pleasure that is ripped from her body as he rubs circles in a tantalising fashion, all the while thrusting into her with increasing pace. Hermione can feel her orgasm growing, threatening to push her off the edge at any minute.

'More,' she whispers, her own hips rolling against his. Draco increases his pace even more, grunting with the effort. Cries of bliss are torn from her throat as she reaches her limit. ' _Draco_!' Hermione screams as she tumbles over the edge, waves of pleasure roll through her body and she feels Draco soon meet his own gratification, spilling his seed into her in spurts of warmth. He groans her name as he comes, collapsing on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight.

'Hermione,' he whispers against her neck. He pushes himself off of her body and pulls himself out of her, flopping onto the bed next to her. 'Good night.'

He wraps an arm around her waist and buries his head against the back of her neck, falling asleep almost instantly. Hermione stays awake for a while longer, memories of the night filling her every waking moment. Her body is sore, but in a good way. The aching reminds her of her good it felt to have Draco inside of her. The blonde is curled up behind her, and Hermione feels content in his arms. She closes her eyes, giving herself over to sleep.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This chapter is a bit longer, a little Christmas Eve treat for you all! Hopefully you guys were okay with the smut - this story is rated M for a reason! Also, it's the first scene I've written like it, so if you can let me know what you think about it, that'd be great!

Thank you to everyone who has followed and favourited this story, it makes me happy to know people actually like what I write! And thanks to everyone who leaves a review, I always want to know what you guys think!

Have a good holidays guys.


	12. Chapter 12

Draco's sleep-blurred eyes rest on the sleeping witch beside him.

Hermione looks a lot younger when she sleeps, with all of her responsibilities and troubles disappearing from her face. Draco wonders what she's dreaming about. He doesn't usually dream himself, but imagines that the brunette's slumbers are filled with imaginary adventures.

As he watches her, she turns over in her sleep and snuggles closer to him, her head resting on his arm. Neither of them had bothered to redress last night, and her nude form is barely hidden under the blanket. He can't believe she let him have all of her. She willingly gave him something that no man can ever have again. He hadn't realised that it would be Hermione's first time until she told him. She really, truly has feelings for him.

A feeling of warmth spreads through him and it scares him. He knows now the depths of his feelings for her. And he knows the troubles that those feelings bring.

For one thing, if any of the Death Eaters find out, it would make her a target. If there's one thing that group hates more than a Mudblood, it's a Mudblood who corrupted a Pureblood. He refuses to put her in danger for his own selfish reasons.

And even if by some miracle they both survived the up-coming war, he'd most likely be sentenced as a traitor and sent to Azkaban, and he feels he knows Hermione well enough by now to know that she wouldn't sit back and watch that happen. She'd try to help him, which would cause the wizarding world to doubt her loyalties. Not to mention the strain it would put on her relationship with Harry and Ron. Not that he particularly cares for the redhead, but he knows it would hurt her if either of them started alienate themselves from her. As much as Draco had managed to stay civil with the two the day before, he highly doubts that either one of them would take too well to the idea of him corrupting their bookworm friend.

And even if he somehow managed to avoid Azkaban and being murdered by one of the Dunderhead Duo, his parents might just do the job for them. His father would never accept that he had fallen for a Mudblood. Of course, with his expected imprisonment or death, that might not be a problem. But Draco knows just how powerful and persuasive his father can be. It wouldn't surprise him if that man managed to negotiate his way out of a Deatheater's Kiss. And Draco would not let that man hurt Hermione if he found out about them. But of course he knows his father would never leave her or them alone if he discovered the truth. The only way to ensure Hermione's safety and happiness would be by… letting her go.

Just the thought sends an icy coldness coursing through Draco's body. But it doesn't matter. The stupid witch had somehow wiggled her way into the heart he didn't even realise he had, and for some reason that meant that she was higher in his priorities than himself.

The stupid, amazing witch.

Feeling his heart breaking with every move he makes, he brushes the hair out of his witch's face, and slowly plants a kiss on her forehead, knowing it will be the last time he touches her. Refusing to allow the prickling behind his eyes to turn into tears, he pulls himself out of the bed, summoning his clothes quietly, ensuring not to wake the sleeping girl. He dresses and, with turns to give one final, wistful glance at the girl who had claimed his heart. He leaves.

..

The first thing Hermione notices when she wakes up is the distinct lack of a body beside hers. Groggily opening her eyelids, she flickers her gaze to the space in the bed next to her, where only last night Draco had laid. Her cheeks flood with warmth as images of his sculptured body, glistening with sweat towering above her, rhythmically thrusting into her. Hermione clenches her legs slightly to try to stifle the dull ache there. But where is he now?

He must have returned to his bed at some point in the morning. Hermione's quite grateful. That would not have been a comfortable conversation with Harry and Ron if they'd found a naked Draco in Hermione's bed. Looking around, she spots her discarded clothes in a neat pile at the foot of her bed. Apparently Draco's more thoughtful than she realised.

Smiling to herself, she clambers out from underneath her blanket and quickly dresses. Once fully clothed, she pulls back her curtains and finds all of the other beds still occupied, or so she guesses by the closed curtains and soft sounds of snoring.

Feeling unclean, she summons the shrunken bath from her bag of holding and grows it back to normal size, filling it with hot, steamy water. Reorganising her curtains to ensure complete privacy, she relaxes into the comforting embrace of the warm water. As she unwinds, she notices the ache between her legs slowly dull. She'd heard stories about how it feels to lose your virginity, most of them from Lavender and Parvati in the girls' dorm in Hogwarts, but she didn't find it as painful as she was expecting.

But what did it mean? Something seemed different with Draco last night. He seemed surer of himself. It wasn't just hormone-fuelled passion that led to their coupling, it felt like more than that. And if it was just lust, then surely he would have returned to his bed when they finished, rather than cuddling her through the night?

Hermione shakes her head. It's no use pondering over things that she won't be able to find the answer to herself. She'll just have to confront Draco about it. She thinks there are probably some things to admit to him anyway. Things that would explain why she feels butterflies just thinking about him. Things that would explain why she yearns for him when he's not with her. Resolving herself to speaking to Draco after her bath, Hermione spends the rest of her soak with meaningless thoughts of a warless time drifting through her mind.

Clean, dry and clothed an hour later, Hermione pulls her curtains away from her bed and crosses the short distance to Draco's 'room'.

'Draco?' she calls quietly, not wanting to disturb him without warning. When no reply meets her call, she repeats a bit louder. 'Draco? Draco I'm coming in.'

Pulling the makeshift curtains away from his bed, she is confused to find it empty. Where is he? She just assumed that he returned to his own bed.

Confused but trying not to worry, Hermione pulls her wand out of her pocket. If he's just gone for a walk, a simple Point Me spell should show her where to find him. She mutters the incantation but her wand doesn't respond. Feeling her panic rising, Hermione tries again. Still no response.

If the spell isn't working, it usually means the target is too far away. Hermione knows that the strength of her spell can usually reach up to a two mile radius, which is further than most. If Draco's more than two miles away does that mean that he-

No. Hermione refuses to believe that he abandoned them. Because that would mean that everything she thought she'd learned about him was wrong… It would mean that she'd fallen for a traitor.

Feeling tears spill down her cheeks as the logical pieces put themselves together in her brain, Hermione throws herself on the bed in front of her. Of course he left. They gave him a wand. He stayed just long enough to get a good shag out of her and then he left. He's probably gone back to the Death Eaters. Now that he has information useful enough to bargain for his life, he has nothing to lose. She meant nothing to him.

Which means that their plans for breaking into Hogwarts are jeopardised. The Death Eaters would be expecting them in Hogsmeade tonight, because that's what they're supposed to be doing. How are they supposed to break in now?

Pain fills every ounce of Hermione as she recalls how gentle Draco had been with her last night. How attentive he had been. How he had held her afterwards. How he had pulled her closer as he fell asleep.

How could she be so stupid? Of course Draco didn't like her. He'd proved it often enough in school. To him, she was just a distraction that also happened to stop Harry and Ron from killing him. A distraction that was willing to give him her virginity.

Her tears start coming faster, her heart hurting in a way she'd never experienced before. It felt like the organ was shattering into a million pieces, causing irreparable damage that she was sure would be visible if anyone were to look at her chest where her heart used to beat. She clutches her chest, half expecting it to be concave, hollow where her heart should be. She allows herself just one more moment to indulge her distress, before rationality kicks back in.

She doesn't know how long ago Draco left, but there's a strong chance he left long enough ago to return to the Death Eaters and inform them of their plans. And if he did that, then there would be nothing stopping him from disclosing their current location. They're not safe.

Practically leaping from her position on the bed, she yells for the boys to wake up and rips the curtains from their beds, shrinking everything and putting it into her bag of holding.

'What is it?' Ron asks groggily, sitting up.

Ignoring the shooting pains in her chest, Hermione replies, 'Draco's gone. He's out of reach of the Point Me spell and I think he's returned to the Death Eaters. We need to leave.'

As if her words held magic of their own, Ron instantly wakes up fully, hastily throwing on clothes and packing his own belongings. Harry follows suit, not asking questions just collecting his items in an efficient way.

As soon as they're all prepared, they take a hold of each other's hands and Hermione apparates them away.

..

Hermione looks a lot older when she's awake, her face revealing all of her responsibilities and troubles.

Draco watches them disappear.

He doesn't know what was worse. Seeing the pain he caused Hermione, or feeling the pain at how quick she was to assume that he'd betrayed them.

He'd placed an untraceable charm on himself when he realised she was trying to locate him. He hadn't been planning on staying. He had meant to leave straight away. But he couldn't deny himself the chance to watch her for just a little while longer. Now he wishes he had just left when he had planned to.

She was gone.

And the image of her tear-stained cheeks would be the last one he ever saw of her.

In that moment Draco hates himself more than he ever has before. He is a sick human being who brings pain to those around him no matter how hard he tries to avoid it.

It may have hurt Hermione now to have him leave, but it would have hurt a lot more if he had stayed. At least, that's what Draco had repeated to himself like a mantra the entire time he watched her sobbing on his bed. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to run to her and to hold her in his embrace, as he had so desperately wanted to.

He wonders what the trio will do now. Where they'll go. What they'll do about Hogwarts. They'll assume that their plans are compromised because of his disappearance. They'll probably spend a couple of days coming up with a new plan. With Hermione's brains, it will probably work. At least, he has to hope it will work.

He didn't leave her just to have her die.

But there are more pressing issues for him at the moment. He knows Hermione will be safe for at least a couple of days as the trio regroups and comes up with a new plan. For now, he has other things he needs to sort out. Like getting his mother out of that hell-hole he used to call a home and making sure that when Potter and the Dark Lord go into battle with each other, the scar-head wins.

Pushing his emotions to the back of his mind and locking them away where they won't bother him for a while, something he has had a lot of practice with, Draco picks up the wand that had been given to him by the Weasel. He stares at it for a moment before apparating away.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I know, I know, it's been so long since I updated! Sorry, I had loads of plans around Christmas time and I've been busy with work ever since. I'll try to update more often, I've already started writing the next chapter so hopefully it won't be more than a week or two.

I hope you guys like this chapter, I had a bunch of different ideas of where to take this story, hopefully I chose the right direction and you don't hate me for Draco leaving. I have a good reason for it, I swear.

Another thank you to those who left reviews, I always love reading them. Please review again! Thanks :)


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione tries her hardest to hide her feelings as her feet land on the hard ground. Still in survival mode, she quickly sets up wards around their location. Too distressed to think properly about where to go, she had returned the three of them to a cave they had spent one night in a while before. They'd left not too long after because the place had an eerie feel to it. But it was better than staying where Draco knew them to be.

Draco.

Despite burying her emotions in the back of her mind, they slowly trickle outward and she feels her eyes dampen. Not wanting Harry or Ron to notice, she calls out a muffled, 'I'm going for a walk,' before hastily striding away from the camp. She knows they'll find it suspicious, but hopes they'll just put it down to stress at having their plans changed.

More than anything, Hermione feels foolish. She put her trust and a heck of a lot more into someone that she should have known would betray them. As if their past troubles hadn't been enough to put her off, there was also the fact that he was a Death Eater. How could she have been so stupid? Away from the camp and the prying eyes of Harry and Ron, Hermione indulges her urge to cry again. Her heart feels like it's trying to escape from her heaving chest.

And what would they do about getting into Hogwarts now? As soon as Draco left he would have told the Death Eaters about their plans, meaning their near-on impossible challenge was now actually impossible.

Hermione had always considered herself a good judge of character, so even her pride takes a hit that she had misplaced her trust. But Draco had seemed so genuine with her. More genuine that she had ever seen him in her life. Not hiding behind that arrogant sneer he wore in school, or camouflaged by his Slytherin friends. She thought she had finally uncovered what the real Draco was like underneath – kind and caring and passionate.

How could she have been so wrong?

She wonders what was going through his head the night before. How he felt about being with her. Was she just another witch on his list? Another notch on his bed post?

Not that it even matters now. Even if it had meant something more to him than just sex, it clearly wasn't enough to make him stay.

But no matter how convinced she is of the truth, Hermione can't shake the feeling that she's wrong. It's probably the eternal optimist in herself that hopes Draco left for another reason. Maybe he didn't betray them? But it's probably just wishful thinking.

Somewhere in her saddened state, Hermione had lost track of where she was walking. She comes across a small creek. The soft sounds of running water penetrate her morbid thoughts and she sits on a rock by the river's edge. She allows her mind to wander onto unimportant topics as the calming atmosphere takes over. She dries her eyes, refusing to waste anymore thoughts on the traitorous blonde.

Kicking off her shoes and socks, she dangles her feet in the water, relishing the cold spiking through her body. Small fish swim idly around her toes, perfectly oblivious to the troubles in the world. How easy would it be to just give up all of the problems? She could just live out here with Harry and Ron. Surely they'd done enough for the world already. Surely it was someone else's turn to save the day.

She sighs. As if she could do that. For one thing living alone with Harry and Ron for the rest of her life would probably drive her insane. And if even she could put up with them, her guilt and sense of responsibility would never allow her to just give up.

Which means she needs to come up with a new plan.

When the enemy knows what you're going to do, how do you fight them? It's like playing chess one move behind. But then, if the enemy knows what you're going to do, they won't expect you to do it.

Hermione takes a moment to ponder that thought. She had been branded the brightest witch of her age for a long time. The Death Eaters would be expecting her to spend hours coming up with a new plan and they were probably using Draco's knowledge of her to predict what it would be…

So what if she decided on something that was completely unlike her? What if they didn't need a new plan after all?

Sure, the Death Eaters are still expecting the three of them to try to get into Hogwarts somehow, so it won't be any easier than it was. But the more she thinks about it, the more she's convinced that it would be more difficult than any plan that they could take three hours coming up with.

If anything, they may have the element of surprise because the Death Eaters really won't be expecting them to actually stick to the plan.

Hermione jumps down from the rock, drying her feet with a quick spell and chucking her shoes back on, already half-running back to camp.

..

Draco stalks the perimeter of his Manor. He knows exactly where the wards start. If he were just to stumble slightly to the left, he would alert everyone in the mansion on his whereabouts and would be under attack before he could say 'shit.'

When he'd first apparated to the town near the Manor, he had considered just walking back in and saying that he'd finally escaped. But the first thing the Dark Lord would do would be to perform Legilimency on him. And as skilled in Occlumency as Draco is, he highly doubts he would be able to keep Voldemort from discovering the truth, considering how he couldn't even keep the thought of Hermione out of his head right now. He just couldn't stop thinking about the hurt look on her face when she discovered the truth. Or, what she thought was the truth.

It still hurt to think of how quickly Hermione had accepted that he had betrayed them. After everything they'd been through. But there was no use dwelling on that now. He'd just have to hope for a happy ending where he could explain everything.

If only his dad could hear his thoughts now. Draco Malfoy praying for a happy ending so he could reunite with his muggle-born lover. Maybe then his dad would have a heart attack and save Draco the trouble. He smirks at his sinister thoughts. Apparently not all of his Slytherin characteristics had gone away when spending so much time with Gryffindors.

He paces back along his small track at the edge of the tree line, just out of sight.

He needed to come up with a plan. He knows the Manor inside out. He used to play hide and seek with Blaise Zabini when his father was away and knew all the secret passages. So finding his way around once in was not the problem. The problem was getting past the wards to get in to begin with.

Even if he had polyjuice potion to transform into someone else, it wouldn't fool the wards. His only hope was to take them down.

But even being the second man of the house, he'd never been told what wards were up or how to remove them.

He sighs. All he can think is that Hermione would know what to do. She'd probably recognise what wards were up just by the feel of the magic on the wind.

Sighing again, knowing that those thoughts would not help him in the slightest, he turns towards the Manor again. First he'll decide on the quickest point of access. If he works out how to get himself through the wards, he'll also need to get into the Manor before being noticed. As he doesn't have access to polyjuice potion or an invisibility cloak, his best bet is a disillusionment charm and a prayer that no one would see him. Disillusionment charms aren't perfect, as they distort the air around the witch of wizard, so anyone looking closely enough would notice a blurred spot running across the lawns. He'd cross that bridge when it came to it.

For now, having decided on a point of entrance, he needs to break the wards.

Deciding to start with what he knows, he begins removing spells in a door-shaped area. Whilst it would actually be easier to take down the wards all over the Manor than in a focused area, large changes to the magic surrounding the place would be more likely to notify the residents. He'd have to hope that no one would notice him tampering with the spells in his section.

After removing a couple of simple spells, he actually finds it easier than expected. He begins to recognise the types of magic protecting the Death Eater's hide out.

Maybe once this war was over, he'd be able to get a job as a curse-breaker.

Before he even allows the thought to settle, he reminds himself that if by some miracle he survives this war, he'll spend the best years of his life as a war criminal in Azkaban. Shaking the sullen thoughts from his mind, he returns to the job at hand.

By some luck, he manages to remove most of the protective spells. The only one left that he recognises is the anti-apparition charm that he wouldn't know even where to start removing. And there are at least three spells that he doesn't even recognise, probably more.

The only thing that fills Draco with a little bit of hope is that he managed to remove the spell that recognises who is passing though the wards. So even if it's known that someone has come onto the property, it won't be known who.

Of course, having not removed the anti-apparition spell means that there is no quick escape route for him. He takes a deep breath. It's a risk he has to be willing to take.

Casting a disillusionment charm, he crosses the edge of the wards.

..

Slightly out of breath by the time she returns to Harry and Ron, having not realised how far she'd walked earlier, Hermione pauses as she enters the camp. Both of the boys look up from their tasks. 'What is it Hermione?'

The two of them look worried. She doesn't blame them, Hermione rarely runs for anything other than trouble.

'I think we should stick with the original plan,' she says eventually, gaging the reaction from her friends. Unlike the confused looks she was expecting, the boys share a look, before sympathy crosses their features. 'What?' Hermione asks, confused.

Ron opens his mouth to respond but Harry cuts in. 'Mione, look… we know that you and Draco became friends when you were together… but he betrayed us. You can't believe that he left and didn't tell the Death Eaters what are plans are-'

Hermione almost laughs. 'You think I still trust Draco? Honestly Harry, you think my friendship-' she swallows the bile that rises in her throat at the word, '-is clouding my judgement? Harry I wish more than anything that Draco hadn't betrayed us, but it's clear that he did.'

This time Hermione gets the confused looks she was expecting. 'Then why on earth would we go ahead with the plan anyway?' asks Ron.

'Because it's the last thing they'll expect us to do!' she replies enthusiastically, willing the boys to see the sense in her plans.

Harry smiles slightly at her words, recognising the logic behind her thoughts. Ron, on the other hand, looks more confused than ever. 'How does that even work? It's literally exactly what they're expecting us to do.'

'Exactly, Ron. But they know that we know they know. And they know that we'd think it too risky to still follow the plan tonight. So right now they'll be thinking over every other plan we could make to combat them. Why waste time stopping an attack that the attackers would be stupid to make? Besides, the longer we leave it, the more likely You-Know-Who is to move the Diadem and we'd have no hope of finding it then.'

Ron nods slowly. 'That actually sounds so ridiculous that it might work.'

'So should we do it?' she asks, looking between the two.

Harry nods. 'It's probably just as good as anything else we could come up with. And with the invisibility cloak and the ability to apparate away if it does go wrong, I can't see that we have anything to lose.'

Ron nods in agreement.

'Okay, well then that's settled. Tonight we apparate into Hogsmeade and enter Hogwarts through the Shrieking Shack. If we can get hold of Neville or Ginny or someone when we get in, they should be able to help us too.'

'Okay,' Harry and Ron say in unison.

Grinning in triumph, Hermione starts motioning to the items the boys had begun setting up.

'Better start packing all of this away again, then.' She gives them both an encouraging look. 'We've got a school to break into.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hope you like the chapter! Sorry that it hasn't got a lot of action in it. Don't worry, the next chapter will make up for that! I'm not sure quite how wards work, so I don't know whether it would actually be possible just to break the wards in a particular area like Draco did, but for the sake of this story I've decided that it's possible.

I'll try to update soon and once again please review!


	14. Chapter 14

Getting into the Manor was not as hard as Draco had originally assumed. After casting the disillusionment charm, he had managed to cross the grounds virtually unnoticed. A few lackeys had been sent to find out what the wards had detected, but he'd quickly knocked them out with a few silent stunning spells and levitated their bodies under some bushes to give him more time before the alarm was raised. He had entered the Manor through one of the second story windows in the west wing into one of the hundreds of spare bedrooms. Fortunately for him, this one was currently unoccupied by any Death Eaters.

Unfortunately, this was on the other side of the Manor from his parents' bedroom, which would be his best bet for finding his mother. That was his main priority.

Draco peers around the empty room, taking a moment to calm himself before quietly opening the door and peering round the corner. Other than the distant sound of footsteps, there was little to disturb the quiet. This was probably the part of the Manor that was used the least. The most important guests were always housed in the east wing. The west wing was originally built as servant's quarters, until the domestication of house elves in the early thirteenth century. House elves took up a lot less room than squibs, who were often used before the magical creatures took over. Since then, this section of the Manor was mostly deserted. Luckily for Draco, it meant that as a child, this was the area he loved the most. He'd spent hours searching for the best hiding places and secret passageways in this part of the building.

So it's only a few steps down the hallway under the disillusionment charm until Draco comes across a familiar sight. To any visitors, the nearly invisible thin line between the sheets of wallpaper between two house plants along the corridor wouldn't mean anything. But Draco walks confidently at the wall never the less. He pushes firmly against the wall, checking one more time that the corridor is empty, before opening a hidden door to a passageway that he knows will lead him directly to the kitchens. It was probably designed so that the staff could travel between the kitchens and living quarters out of sight of guests.

Feeling momentarily safe, his mind drifts. He should have known not to let his mind wander, as it naturally goes to the one witch who has been haunting his every thought for more time than he cares to admit.

Hermione.

Even the thought of her name sends a warm feeling to his stomach. Despite the sadness that he thought would accompany the idea of her, instead Draco feels pure determination. He needs to rescue his mother and complete the other part of his plan for her. If he stands even a chance of getting her forgiveness, he'll need to do something incredibly stupid but hopefully incredibly heroic.

He walks quietly down some steps, noticing the increasing volume of voices. He wonders if people found the unconscious Death Eaters in the bushes. There will be a Manor-wide search for him now. Just a few inches of brickwork to his side are probably a whole bunch of people who'd love to see him dead. It would be best not to draw their attention.

As he nears the kitchens, he slows.

No one uses the kitchens except for the house elves. He'd only been in there a few of times himself, mostly as a child, sneaking in there for a midnight snack, and a few times more recently when he preferred getting food himself than summoning house elves to do the job. Technically speaking, Draco is still a member of the Malfoy family, so the house elves should still be loyal to him, right? He decides to wait until the Death Eaters finish their first sweep of the house. No doubt someone will be sent to check the kitchens.

Once they've been checked, he probably has half an hour to forty five minutes whilst the higher Death Eaters consult about their being an intruder before another thorough sweep is made and the Dark Lord is summoned. Considering he had made the place his base of operations, Voldemort spent very little time actually at the Manor, only visiting for meetings and the occasional revel. Draco could sense that he was away at the moment. The Dark Lord released a palpable aura. The place was always colder, darker when he was there. And Draco doubts he would have got so far if the Dark Lord was aware that there was an intruder.

He leans against the wall, sliding down until he's sitting against it, next to the secret entrance to the kitchens. He'll wait out the first scout.

It takes another ten minutes before the sound of thundering footsteps causes Draco to press his head against the passageway door and listen intently.

'Oi! Has anyone been down here? Anyone at all?' demands a voice Draco doesn't recognise. He doubts it would be a very high up member who would be sent to the kitchens. It's probably the least likely place an intruder would hide, given all of the loyal house elves down there.

A squeaky voice replies, 'no, sirs, you is the only one to come here all of the day.'

'Okay, if anyone who shouldn't be here comes here, you are to detain them and report it immediately!'

A chorus of, 'yes, master!' is heard and the footsteps retreat back up the stairs.

Draco counts to thirty before slowly pushing the secret door open. He has to trust that his status as a Malfoy means more to the creatures than the word of some Death Eater.

Immediately, all heads turn to the blonde. Before any of them can react, a smallish elf – Blinky – squeals, 'Master Draco!' and rushes toward him. Barrelling into him, she throws are thin arms around his legs. 'Blinky was so worried about you, yes she was! All of the nasty men was saying mean things about you, but Blinky knows that you isn't bad!'

Draco is taken aback by the little creature in front of him.

'Blinky! We needs to tell the masters that there is an intruder,' says a slightly larger, male house elf defiantly. Blinky releases Draco's legs and turns on the other elf furiously.

'No we don't. Masters told us to tell them if anyone is here that shouldn't be here… this is Master Draco's home so he should be here.'

Draco is even more taken aback by the little creature standing up for him. Apparently the loyalty goes deeper than he thought. He thinks about Granger, and how for years during their school, she would petition for the rights of house elves. He always thought she was stupid for doing so and that her efforts were wasted. Shame fills him at how quick he used to be to dismiss house elves as dumb creatures who were below him. He makes a vow to himself that, if he survives this war, he'll try to get them the recognition they deserve.

'But-'

'No buts! Master Draco is our masters too! He is a Malfoy and we serve the Malfoy family, yes we does.'

The larger house elf seems to consider it for a moment. All of the other elves watch the interaction, clearly waiting on the decision of the larger elf, who seems to be in charge.

'I suppose you is right. Master Draco, how can we helps?'

Draco releases a breath he didn't even realise he was holding.

'Well, the main thing is don't let anyone know that I'm here. And… I need someone to fetch my mother.'

..

It didn't take long for the trio to pack away their belongings. Soon enough it was just the three of them sat around a fire, waiting for the sunlight to fade. Sticking to the plan, the three of them would apparate into Hogsmeade under the cover of the invisibility cloak, and head towards the shrieking shack, where they'd enter the grounds of Hogwarts through the tunnel that leads to the whomping willow. All being well, they'd enter Hogwarts unnoticed and make it up to the room of requirements, where they'd find Ravenclaw's Diadem.

At least, that was the plan. For Hermione, there were too many unknown risks that could jeopardise their mission, but they really had little other choice. And as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, she looks across at her two best friends. It's time.

She stands, extender her hands for Harry and Ron to take. Harry throws the invisibility cloak over them. Hermione had used an _engorgio_ on the cloak to fit them all under. Charms didn't seem to work on the cloak for very long, so she would have to keep recasting it every few minutes, but there was no other way that they could all fit under it at its normal size.

Hermione calms herself before apparating, landing with a small pop down an alley in Hogsmeade. Almost immediately a loud siren blares. The three look at each other in fear. How could they know they're hear already?

A familiar cold feeling seeps into Hermione's skin and she recognises a similar look of fear on Harry's face. Dementors. They could hide from wizards, but Dementors would sense them.

The horrific creatures turn down the alley and Harry raises his wand but Hermione stops him. His Patronus is too recognisable. If any of the Death Eaters that are almost certainly with the Dementors notice a silver stag charging through the town, Voldemort would be summoned before they even had a chance to say his name. Grabbing her own wand, Hermione sends her otter to chase them away. It takes her a moment to realise why the process felt different from before, but as soon as she realises why, her heart drops. It was Draco's face that appeared in her mind as her happy thought for the Patronus.

'We have to leave,' she whispers hurriedly, grabbing the other two and attempting to apparate away. 'Shit, they have anti-apparition wards. Where do we go?'

'Down here!' The trio look a few doors down, where an elderly wizard is motioning to them. 'Hurry up, we don't have all day!'

It's just as likely that the elderly wizard will betray them as it is that he'll help them, but right now trusting him seems to be there only option. Dragging Harry and Ron along with her, Hermione enters the building, throwing off the invisibility cloak in the process. The man turns to them. 'Don't take that off just yet, you don't want to be seen.'

Taking his advice, the three crowd under the cloak again, Hermione charming it to fit them all under. Almost as soon as they're covered up, three youngish Death Eaters run up to the door, which is still open. 'What the hell is going on?' one of them demands.

'I was letting my cat out, then you're stupid Dementors started coming at me! You need to keep them under control!''

'You know about the curfew! You should have let your cat out earlier!'

'I don't decide when my cat wants to poop now, do I? Now if you're quiet finished, I'm wanting to go to sleep. It's been a long day.'

The Death Eaters look at him once again. 'One more question, what was your Patronus?'

Hermione pales. Unless the man saw her cast her Patronus, he wouldn't have a clue that it's an otter. The man pauses, looking at a loss.

'Just as I thought-'

Realising their imminent discovery, Hermione mutters, 'obliviate.' Blank looks replace the menacing glares on the Death Eaters' faces. Hermione replants a memory that clears them all and the three men turn on their heels and walk away, but she can't get rid of their blank faces from her mind. For a moment, she remembered how her parents hadn't even recognised their own daughter and she's filled with a painful sadness. But that will have to wait. For now they need to find out who their saviour is and come up with a new plan.

She sheds the invisibility cloak again, turning to the elderly wizard to look at him properly. She almost does a double take. 'I'm sorry, I just thought-'

'Dumbledore?' asks Ron stupidly.

'Yes, but not that one. My name's Aberforth, and you three are idiots for coming back here. You-Know-Who has built up security here like he owns the place. You can all stay here for tonight and tomorrow you can get under your invisibility cloak and get out of here.' He turns to face the exit but Hermione stops him.

'We can't do that. We need to get into Hogwarts.'

Aberforth turns to them with a patronising look. 'Should I commission your coffins now?'

'Look, if we have any chance of defeating You-Know-Who then we need to get in there and it needs to be soon. You have to help us.'

He pauses for a moment before leading them into a room to the side. He approaches a painting of a young girl and murmurs something to her. The girl nods and begins retreating. Hermione watches as she disappears, returning a few moments later with a figure beside her. Hermione narrows her eyes, that looks like… 'Neville!'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I know, I know, I'm sorry! It's been far too long since I updated, but basically my internet went down at home a couple of weeks ago and it's only just been fixed, I hadn't forgotten about the story, I promise!

As you can tell, the action is really building, and I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter, which I'll hopefully publish soon!

Just wanted to explain something that I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter; I did some research and found that Malfoy Manor was originally built around the time of William the Conqueror in the 11th century, and I wondered whether house elves have always been domesticated, because their nature suggests a strong sense of hierarchy, so if they were a wild species, it would have made them easy to domesticate. So for the sake of this story I'm saying that happened around the 13th century.

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, thanks again for all your amazing reviews!


	15. Chapter 15

'Draco!'

The blonde Slytherin feels his mother's crushing embrace before he hears her exclamation. His arms awkwardly wrap around his mother's form. She feels so frail, nothing like the proud woman he is used to watching glide around the Manor.

Narcissa pulls back, her hands holding onto her son's shoulders. 'Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened to you? Did that Potter boy kidnap you? Why are they saying you're helping them?'

'One question at a time, Mother... and not here, it's not safe.' He turns to pull his mother towards the passageway, in case another scout is sent down there but Narcissa plants her feet firmly, refusing to budge.

'No, Draco. I need to know what's going on. Why isn't it safe? You're innocent. There's no reason you shouldn't be here now that you escaped Potter and his friends. We should go tell your father that you've returned and...' she trails off, watching him carefully. 'Unless... unless what they're saying is true.'

The look of hurt and betrayal in his mother's eyes cuts Draco to his core, but he keeps a strong face. 'I highly doubt that what they're saying is true, but I highly doubt the Dark Lord is going to welcome me back with open arms at the moment and that means it isn't safe. Please, just come with me so we can talk in safety.' This time his mother lets him pull her towards the wall that had been left ajar. He can tell by the mild surprise on her face that she had no idea the passageway was there.

Before he can close the wall behind him, Blinky steps forward timidly. 'What can we do for yous now?'

He looks down at the small elf in front of him, who had already risked so much to help him. 'Nothing right now Blinky, I just need all of you to act normal and not tell anyone that we're here. We'll be back soon.' Blinky nods determinedly, as if it was the most important task ever assigned to her.

He closes the entrance and casts a dull _lumos_ to light their faces. Her mother's look is not one that he expects but one that he recognises greatly: disdain. No doubt she is far from comfortable being dragged into a dank and unused passageway hidden next to the kitchens. A place entirely beneath her. Draco suppresses a smile; trust his mother to be in the middle of a war, faced with her traitor of a son and practically a prisoner in her own home and be turning her nose up at some dust.

'What is this all about Draco? There was mention of some guards being found unconscious in the grounds, was that your doing?'

Draco pauses, debating how best to respond. 'Is that really the important question right now, mother?'

Narcissa gives him an odd look. 'No, I guess not. Well, I guess you'd best get to explaining then.'

And Draco does. He starts from the battle at Gringotts and explains how he stepped in front of one of Lucius' spells and had been knocked unconscious. He describes how he woke up wandless and cuffed to an uncomfortable bed with the trio and how they had kept questioning his motives for saving Hermione and how he wasn't even sure himself why he protected her. He tells her how he got to know Hermione as the days went on, how his desire to escape lessened. He mentions how Hermione forgot about the taboo on the Dark Lord's name and the two of them got separated from the others for days and how he began to consider Hermione as less of a captor and more of a friend. He leaves out their kiss and what followed. It would be hard enough to convince his mother to come with him without telling her about his relationship with a muggle-born. Instead he moves on to how even his hatred for Potter and Weasley faded slightly when they all joined again, and how he began to reconsider his whole outlook on the war and sides. He explains how he began to question what he had been brought up on; how he began to look at things from their point of view... how he even began to help them. At this point his mother, who had been silent and expressionless so far, gasped.

'Draco how- how could you? The Dark Lord will kill you!'

'I know that, mother! But I can't serve him anymore! What he's doing is wrong. For once in my life I'm thinking for myself and I beg you to do the same!'

Draco looks deep into his mothers eyes - icy grey, like his. Her jaw is set and Draco is sure that the grinding of her teeth is audible. Her gaze flicks wildly over his face, desperately searching for any sign that he is lying to her. But Draco is finally being honest to her and to himself. He's finally doing what he thinks is right, rather than what he was taught is right.

His mother reaches her hand out and brushes it lightly down his cheek. 'Do you really think I could change my entire beliefs overnight, Draco? Even if I wanted to look at it the way you are... I can't. You're my son and- and I love you... but I need to serve the Dark Lord. I _want_ to serve the Dark Lord.'

Draco winces. 'I don't believe that, mother.' He takes in her form again, pale and sickly in the limited glow of his wand. 'Have you looked at yourself recently? You're losing weight. You're unhappy. You don't deserve to be treated like this by someone who is supposed to be on your side!' He sighs in frustration, trying to keep his voice down, cautious of the ever increasing voices overhead.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she says, lifting her head up in defiance.

'Bullshit.' Narcissa gasps. 'You heard me. I want you to look at me in the eye and tell me honestly: do you want to be this Manor one day more?'

Narcissa holds her pose, almost frozen in her look of elegant resistance. But then her shoulders slump and she almost crumples against her son's shoulders. A soft whisper of a 'no' is barely audible as it leaves her lips. A bit louder, she repeats, 'no Draco. I do not want to stay here. Yes I am unhappy. Is that what you want to hear? Will that make this easier? Because I sure don't think it will! What now? I'm supposed to run off with you and join the 'light side'? Fight alongside a bunch of Mudbloods and half-bloods whilst watching my friends, my _husband_ raise their wands against me? I can't do that, Draco! I can't do that!'

He pulls her into his arms. Draco had never been someone who hugged a lot; a trait that he got from his parents. Emotions in general were stifled in his family. Emotions meant weakness and weakness was not allowed. But seeing his mother break down in front of him was sparking an anger in him that could only be repressed by holding her shaking form close to him. Anger he understood. But this anger was a burning need for revenge against the people that had turned his proud mother into a quivering mess of sadness.

'I'm not asking you to fight, mother. I'm asking you to come with me. I can't leave you alone here anymore. Come with me, be safe.' Her pleading eyes meet his. Underneath the mask that she is fighting to maintain is a desperate need to be protected. Narcissa is a strong woman. But even a strong woman would struggle in a situation like this and his opinion of her does not drop for an instant.

Draco holds his breath. This is it. The moment of truth. They'd had their words. They'd said their pieces. Now was when Narcissa would make her decision.

Almost imperceptibly, she nods.

Relief flooding through him, Draco helps his mother to stand up properly, wiping her eyes of the moisture pooling there. 'Good. Now I need you to stay here. There's something I need to do before I leave. Wait for me.'

..

Never had Hermione felt so good to see the Room of Requirements in all its glory, even filled with the injured pupils of Hogwarts as it is. Hermione crawls out of the passage behind Harry, who is immediately enveloped by an affectionate red head, who flings her arms around him with such force she's surprised Harry stays on his feet. Hermione barely hears Ron's grumble about being ignored by his sister as her eyes dart around amongst the broken and the bruised in their makeshift camp. But it's not the startling array of injuries that catches Hermione's eyes; it's the unexpected fire that glows behind the eyes of everyone in the room. The determination on their faces seems to grow as they look at the three new members to the group.

Hermione hadn't really considered what the pupils of Hogwarts had been going through. Sure, she'd worried about them and prayed that they were okay, and had listened intently to Ron's updates from his radio. But she'd never really considered the battle that they'd be waging on their end. She'd been too busy trying to stay alive and falling for a certain blonde to wonder too deeply what they'd been going through. Now she could see how wrong she was to assume that they'd be better off at Hogwarts than the three of them had been on the road. But it almost seems like just the three of them being there was the biggest gift they could bring.

Seamus steps up next to Neville, a deep gash on his cheek marring his boyish features. 'The three o' you look like you've been having a finer time than we have! Been enjoying your little camping trip?' he jokes in his strong Scottish lilt.

'It's good to see you too, Seamus,' says Harry, with Ginny clinging to his arm as if afraid he'll disappear should she release physical contact. 'It's good to see all of you.'

'What can we do, Harry? You must have come back for a reason,' asks Neville with a gaunt expression. He seems to have aged ten years since the last time Hermione saw him.

Harry looks around the room seriously, ready to weigh the response of the group. 'We... we think the war is nearly over. And we think it's going to end here.'

Gasps and murmurs stop as soon as they start as people's shock is quickly replaced by their desire to hear more.

'When? And more importantly, can we win?' Neville's question hangs heavy in the air, everyone waiting on baited breath for Harry's verdict.

Growing up with Harry had always brought its fair share of adventure. And as much as Hermione hated the trouble it had gotten them in, she had always revelled in the excitement and the responsibility. Because this wasn't the first time the three of them had had their input in saving the wizarding world, although she sure hoped it would be the last time the burden was placed on their shoulders. But throughout all the time that she'd spent with the messy-haired wizard, she'd never thought of him as such a leader as she did right now. She watches on with pride as Harry addresses everyone's concerns.

'Can we win? It's possible. But we have to act. As I'm sure you've all picked up on, You-Know-Who isn't exactly mortal. But he can be. There's a diadem hidden in the castle. Hidden here, to be precise. We destroy it, and we're one step closer to bringing him down. I know you've all had to fight hard, but I need you to fight harder, and I know you can do it. We're going to bring him here, to our castle, to our home, and we're going to bring him down! Because we have something worth fighting for, and we're sure as hell going to fight for it! If he wants a fight, it's a fight he's going to get. Are you with me?'

A chorus of 'yeah's erupt throughout the room. Before Harry can respond, the doors burst open and a bruised Colin Creevey scurries in, his eyes going wide at the sight of Harry. 'Harry Potter! Oh, uh, Snape! He's calling a meeting in the Great Hall. Everyone needs to go!'

All heads turn not to Harry, but to Neville, clearly awaiting his instruction.

Neville turns to the three of them. 'You lot stay here, or do what you need to do. We'll handle Snape.'

'We'll take care of the diadem and be right behind you.'

Neville nods and takes off for the door, the rest of the room falling into step behind him. Hermione had never considered Neville to be much of a leader, but clearly he'd been just the guy that the students of Hogwarts had needed in their absence. Very little seemed to be left of the chubby boy who struggled in pretty much everything except herbology and was always losing his toad.

As the last student leaves, closing the door behind him, Hermione turns to the two boys. 'Okay, we need to leave this room for it to change to the one with the diadem,' she says as she reaches into her bag of holding for the invisibility cloak. She steps towards them and throws it over their heads. 'Just in case.'

..

Draco looks at the repulsive potion in front of him, bubbling away. Luckily for him, another scout returned to the kitchens moments after his mother's agreement to come with him. A little stunning spell, a greasy hair and a vial of polyjuice potion from the elves and Draco is looking at his way of running around the Manor unnoticed for the next hour. Last time he'd had to force down the revolting concoction it had been to allow him to go shopping with Hermione for supplies, disguised as she was as a tall blonde woman. He'd always imagined himself with someone blonde. A tall, slim witch with blue eyes and a quiet nature. Someone who would give him the family life his parents wanted for him. Someone who would maintain their pure blood heritage and produce him a strong male heir. Someone who wouldn't fight back against him. Instead he'd fallen for a bushy-haired know-it-all with muggle parents and a wicked tongue. Someone who could keep him on his feet. He smiles at the thought despite himself and pours the potion down his throat.

The pain of the transformation is over quickly and Draco views his reflection in the polished tiles on the wall. He's shrunk a little and his hair has shortened to a dark brown crop. His gut has also substantially increased.

'What does Master Draco want us to do with the body, sirs?' asks Blinky, gazing up at him with her big eyes.

'Hide it, but don't put it in the passage with my mother, can you think of a place?' Blinky seems to ponder it for a moment before nodding enthusiastically. 'Good, make sure my mother is kept safe and hidden. I should be back in an hour.'

He runs up the stairs that lead to the main corridors of the Manor. Time for part two of his plan.

For a while, Draco comes across very few Death Eaters, most of whom don't pay him a second look. As suspected, he's a low ranked lackey who know one cares enough to question. Whilst it comes with the benefits of being mostly invisible to the occupants of the house, he's not sure how far that'll hold if he starts poking around the more private parts of the Manor. Specifically: the Dark Lord's chambers.

When the Dark Lord had first taken up residence in Draco's childhood home, he'd pretty much sectioned off an entire floor for himself and a few of his most trusted followers. Draco had been to his private room only twice. Once to be asked to kill Dumbledore and the second time to be punished for failing to do so. Naturally, he didn't associate the quarters with particularly positive memories. But if he was going to find what he came for, that's where he'd have to look. After all, where else would the Dark Lord leave his most treasured possession.

Nagini.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm back! I'm alive! I know I've left this story way too long to update again (sorry!) I've just been really busy with work. I've also been neglecting the original book that I'm writing and felt like I needed to give it a little tlc and attention. But I'll try not to leave it so long to update this story next time!

As always, please leave a review. It genuinely makes my day to hear what you guys think!


	16. Chapter 16

As soon as the trio push through the doors to the Room of Requirements, Hermione can tell my how Harry stiffens next to her that they found the right place. Locating the diadem doesn't take long. Ron soon spots it on top of an old cabinet that looks recently tampered with. He reaches up and plucks it from its resting place, instantly shivering.

'I forgot how these felt, so... cold.'

'Here, I'll take it,' whispers Hermione, holding her hand out, remembering what the last Horcrux they had did to Ron. Whilst she didn't harbour the same feelings for him she did previously, she doesn't think she could take watching him walk out on them again. Not after-

She stops herself from thinking his name. From thinking of him in general. It just hurt too much.

Instead she smiles at her friends, motioning for them to leave the room.

'One question... how do we destroy it?' asks Harry, staring at the thing with hatred.

Hermione glances down at the diadem in her hands. It really is a shame that such a beautiful, historical artefact was tainted by dark magic like it was. She strokes the sapphire set in the twisted silver, tilting the jewellery, watching as it gleams. She looks closer, the famous words ' _wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure_ ,' etched onto the front. Supposedly, the diadem was enchanted to increase the intelligence of the wearer. Without even thinking, Hermione brings the diadem closer to her head. Imagine, her intelligence increased with the magic of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Almost immediately, the diadem is swiped from her grasp, and she sends her hurt look towards Harry, eyeing the piece in his hands.

'Maybe I should look after it until we find a way to destroy it, okay?'

Hermione looks down, upset that she was tempted by the dark artefact. Apparently this one had more of an affect on her than the others had. Slytherin's locket had repulsed her, and the cup had always radiated darkness, but the diadem, it... called to her. Thinking back to it, Harry had always been the one that didn't mind the locket so much, had always offered to wear it first, and Ron hadn't minded taking care of the cup at all. Maybe each of them represented the other houses. Harry had nearly been placed in Slytherin, that much they all knew. And Ron's loyalty and family values definitely matched Hufflepuff's values. And no one would argue that with Hermione's intelligence, she would fit right into Ravenclaw. Maybe that's why they'd all been sorted into Gryffindor together... it took bravery to defy your stereotypes.

She looks away from her friends, not wanting them to see the moisture pooling in her eyes. She could be soppy some other time, right now they needed to be strong and work out a way to destroy the diadem.

It only takes a few moments of pondering for her brain to work through the possibilities. 'Of course! Harry, do you think you could get back into the Chamber of Secrets?'

'I can't see why not, but Hermione, why would I- oh! The basilisk, great thinking Hermione!' Harry replies enthusiastically.

Ron nods, 'Hermione, grab the cloak, we'll all go.'

Hermione thinks of the description Harry gave her of the Chamber of Secrets when he went into the heart of it to rescue Ginny in their second year. She can't imagine it being any better with the rotting carcass of a basilisk in their. She's not sure she can stomach the idea. 'No, you guys go, I'll wait in the camp room until the others get back, to let them know what's going on.'

'Are you sure?' asks Ron, concern filling his voice. He places a hand on her shoulder and she resists the urge to shake him off, reminder herself that he's just trying to comfort her, and it's not his fault that physical contact with him makes her more than uncomfortable now.

She nods, gently removing his hand so as not to offend him. 'I'll see the two of you soon,' she says, hugging them both and handing Harry the enlarged invisibility cloak.

As the three of them part ways, Hermione paces outside of the Room of Requirements three times again, thinking about what she wants to appear. Entering back into the encampment, she plonks herself down on one of the beds in there, placing her head in her hands. It was nice to be alone for a little while.

She took a deep breath. It was the first time she'd been properly alone in what felt like forever. She leaned back, clearing her mind of all thoughts.

Hermione didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until she was jolted awake by a familiar face. A face she definitely did not expect to see here.

..

Draco skulked around corners, avoiding making eye contact with as many Death Eaters as he could. The closer he got to the Dark Lord's wing, the more weird looks he was getting. They knew he wasn't supposed to be here. Panicking slightly, but not letting it show on his features, Draco considers his options. He could try to stun one of the higher up Death Eaters and polyjuice into them instead. But he would probably be caught, tortured and killed. Not a very viable option. It could cast a disillusionment charm and hope that no one was paying enough attention to see him, but again it would most likely result in a quick termination of his existence. His eyes dart around, noticing an unoccupied room and sliding into it. He sits on the bed, his head in his meaty hands - not _his_ hands. What is he thinking? There is no way he could get all the way to the Dark Lord's room without being spotted and interrogated. Heck he didn't even know the name of the lackey he'd jumped and impersonated. There was no way he could blag himself out off a troublesome situation if it came to it. And there was no way he wouldn't be interrogated if he tried to get much further.

Racking his brain, he tries to remember this area of the Manor, specifically, the hidden passageways that no one else would no about. His best option was a little passage between this floor and the next. It would take him to the corridor he needed to get to, but the opposite side. And there would definitely be Death Eaters protecting the Dark Lord's quarters. He couldn't slip past them all. He could always try to fight his way through, but as soon as the first spell was cast, all hell would break lose. And as powerful as Draco knows he is, he wouldn't stand much of a chance against several experienced Death Eaters at the same time, as much as his ego hurts to admit it.

Sighing, he runs his hands through his hair. His hair that was no longer a short buzz cut, but growing by the second. Apparently he'd been sneaking around the Manor for longer than he thought. Glancing down at his hands, he noticed they were subtly changing back into the slender digits he was used to. Damn.

He groans in frustration. He is so not in the mood for dying today. He considers his options. Fighting seems like his best option, but he'd need to take some of the Death Eaters away. He needed a distraction.

But first things first: scout out the area and work out what his chances are of getting enough Death Eaters to leave to have a chance of fighting his way through the rest.

Looking down at his body and noticing the return of his firm form and lack of butterbeer-belly, he realises his best option is to disillusion himself whilst getting to the entrance to the tunnel, which if he remembers correctly is behind a large mirror in the bathroom down the hall. Quickly casting the spell, he glances down and is satisfied with his mostly transparent form. Leaving the room and sticking to the walls, he walks quietly down the corridor, slipping into the room he's after. This bathroom alone is the size of the shared bathrooms they had to put up with at school, and is only one of many that populate the Manor. Locking the door behind him, he strolls over to the mirror in question, searching the frame for the secret switch he knows will open it up. Praying that no nosy Death Eaters had come across it before, he pulls it open and sneaks inside, risking a dim lumos to lead the way.

It seems just as abandoned as it has always been, and he feels a bit safer than out in the hallways. This passage is nowhere near as long as the last, and he soon approaches the exit - a large portrait of one of his great ancestors. When people say that old pictures have eyes, they're usually right. Pressing his face close to the back of the portrait, he peers through the eye holes, nearly invisible from the other side. Fortunately for him, the portrait faces the entire hall, giving him a good view.

Unfortunately for him, the view is not so good at all.

He had been expecting maybe seven or eight guards, and hoped to be able to half it with the distraction he was planning. But what he saw was more like twelve guards, and that's not including any in any of the rooms down the hall. He could see the Dark Lord's room from here. The grandest doors at the end of the wide floor led to his private quarters, the dark wood hiding the horror Draco knew to be on the other side. Whilst Voldemort appreciated a tidy living area, it did not stop him from collecting certain 'trophies' of certain 'accomplishments' from his time in power. Draco had seen enough dismembered corpses for a lifetime.

Stepping away from the portrait, he quietly says, 'Blinky,' and not a moment later, the chirpy house elf pops into existence beside him.

'Masters called Blinky, Mister Draco?' she asks happily.

He shushes her, conscious of the small amount of canvas between himself and a floor of armed and angry wizards.

'Blinky is sorry! Blinky shouldn't have been loud! Blinky will punish herself, Master Draco,' she says before aiming her head at the concrete wall beside her and banging it against it repeatedly. Draco is taken aback, and only pauses momentarily before pulling the small creature away from her self inflicted punishment. He'd never noticed that the house elves were so hard on themselves before.

'No, it's okay Blinky. But I need you to do something for me.'

Her doe eyes light up as she nods enthusiastically. 'Anything, Blinky will do anything!'

He tugs a couple of strands of his straight blonde hair from his hand and hands it to her. If she finds it odd, she doesn't make it clear. 'Blinky, I need you to listen very carefully and do exactly what I say, okay?' He waits for her to nod before continuing. 'I need you to take these hairs and put them into some polyjuice potion and give it to the man we captured earlier, okay?' Again, she nods. 'I need you to make sure he doesn't wake up whilst this is happening, and that he will stay asleep for a while. Once you're sure he is unconscious and looks like me, I need you to take him away from the kitchens and inform the Death Eaters that you found the intruder and you captured him. You need to tell whoever comes, that you need the highest ranking Death Eaters in the Manor to look after him. Tell them he's me. But make sure they don't call the Dark Lord, okay?' Blinky nods.

'Blinky can do this. Blinky will not let Master Draco down.' She disappears with a pop and Draco is left alone to watch his plan unfold. He knows when Blinky has done as asked as soon as a young Death Eater he doesn't recognise asks for as many Death Eaters can be spared. Initially, only two go to move and Draco feels his heart sink - he can't fight off ten.

But then the youngster mentions his name and instantly another four follow. He scouts who's left. There are six of them. He can probably stun two or three of them before being discovered, which would leave about three Death Eaters to fight in even combat. He recognises two of the guards but the rest have unfamiliar faces.

Breathing in deeply, preparing himself, he starts the fight that could possibly end his life.

..

'Molly?' Hermione asks, shocked. 'What are you doing here?'

'I could ask you the same question, Dear!' she says scooping Hermione up into the kind of mama-bear hug that only Molly Weasley can pull off. 'Neville contacted us as soon as you arrived,' she explains. 'Said it was time.'

Hermione nods, understanding. She looks at the rest of the group, taking in the familiar faces and feeling the warmth surge to her heart. Their loyalty and bravery fills her with confidence. Maybe they really can do this.

'Where are the others?' asks Kingsley Shacklebolt, stepping forward.

'Snape called a meeting in the Great Hall.' She doesn't mention Harry and Ron being in the Chamber of Secrets. She's not sure how many of the group know of Voldemort's horcruxes, and really does not feel up to explaining it at the moment. Not to mention the fear that the idea of Voldemort's immortality places in people, even those as courageous as the group in front of her.

'Is that where Ron is? And Harry?' asks Molly, still holding onto Hermione. She's glad for the contact, having lacked a mother's coddling for far too long.

She shakes her head. 'They'll be joining us later.'

'Well then, what are we waiting for? I saw we go crash a meeting,' chuckles Lupin, a purple-haired Tonks at his side.

Hermione was initially worried about wandering through Hogwarts visibly, but the place seems positively abandoned. It's colder than she's ever known it to be, and all of the students must have reconvened to the Great Hall as Snape's request, as not a single one is hiding down a corridor, or sneaking around.

They reach the doors, which aren't guarded. After all, who would be stupid enough to attack the center of Hogwarts whilst filled with teachers? Oh yeah. Them.

Shacklebolt presses his ear to the door, listening, and motions for the others to do the same.

She can hear Snape talking to the crowd, a threatening tone in his voice. His sneering tone makes her blood curdle and her hands close into fists. What she wouldn't give to smack that smug expression she knows is gracing his face. 'Harry Potter has been sited in Hogsmeade and has escaped the Dementors. It is almost certain he is somewhere in Hogwarts. Which means someone knows where he is. And if those someones know what is good for them, they'll turn him in. Now.'

Silence greets his threat.

'What are we waiting for?' whispers Hermione, watching the others.

A smile crosses Kingsley's features. 'Well, I've always wanted to make a dramatic entrance.'

She listens back into Snape's speech when she can hear Neville interrupt the teacher. 'It seems you have a bit of a security problem, Professor.'

'Now!' Kingsley nods. They blow the doors open, striding sassily into the Great Hall to greet the stunned expressions of the students. 'And it's bigger than you think,' adds Kingsley with a smirk.

And then all hell breaks lose.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Ah, so the whole 'I'll update soon!' thing didn't work out. Sorry guys! But I feel like I've got my mojo back for this story, and I'm excited about all the action coming up. Thanks for sticking with me, guys and gals. I'll definitely try to update soon.

Hint: reviews, follows and favourites always help me update quicker. *wink wink*


	17. Chapter 17

Draco slowly pushes the canvas away from the wall, watching through the eyes to make sure none of the Death Eaters notice. He casts a disillusionment charm on himself, thinking it might buy him a few more seconds when he is discovered. As soon as there's space, he pushes the tip of his wand through the space on the left, pointing it at the closest target. When the others are looking away, he casts a silent stunning charm, managing to the knock him and two others out before the first body hits the floor. But as he's muttering the fourth spell, the conscious guards spin towards him, one shooting a devastating bombarda that tears the detailed portrait of one of his ancestor's to shreds. Absently his mind wonders how long someone spent painting that.

But the thought loses significance immediately as instead his mind conjures a fourth stunning spell, which he directs at the largest Death Eater whilst they're looking confused at where he stands invisibly, wondering who their opponent is. Quickly catching onto the situation when the fourth man collapses, the other two start firing spells rapidly in his direction. He struggles to maintain the disillusionment charm whilst protecting himself against the onslaught from two opponents and trying to fire offensive spells as well. Whilst two opponents is less than he was expecting, they are clearly both well trained in dark magic and duelling. Draco is definitely aware of all the green spells being sent his way, famously representing the killing curse. As his form slowly regains visibility, the dawning look of recognition crosses their faces.

'Get the others! I'll hold him off,' yells one of them, moving to cover the other Death Eater, taking over the brunt of Draco's attacks. Draco tries to curse a quick petrificus totalus at him but he darts round a corner and out of sight. Draco curses, his attention now focused on the present target. He doesn't have long until reinforcements arrive. Hopefully Blinky can keep them distracted for just a few minutes longer. Draco ducks as a spell breaks through his defences whilst he's not paying attention. He shoots over his head, crashing into the wall behind him, smoke emanating from the large hole it creates.

Draco berates himself, next time he stops paying attention it could cost him his life.

'Ooh, pay attention little Malfoy. Wouldn't want to stain mummy's walls with your blood now, would you?'

Instead of replying, Draco fires back a sectumsempra, which slices a deep gash into the Death Eater's side. Draco smirks slightly. That'll teach him to be cocky.

Wounded, the masked man struggles to keep up such a pace. Draco notices him tiring, his spells becoming sloppier as blood leaks through his cloak. Blocking a weak curse easily, Draco sends back a quick stunning spell and the large man is finally brought to the floor.

Draco takes a moment to catch his breath. Only a moment though, as every second could be bringing a new enemy closer.

He pushes into Voldemort's quarters, the large ornate wooden doors swinging open. But before he can even flicker his eyes across the dimly lit room, a shocking pain cripples him. A strangled scream escapes his throat as he drops to his knees. He knows this pain. A cruciatus curse.

But who could be casting it? He saw no one else, and he didn't hear anyone cast the curse.

Fighting the malicious sensations, he forces his eyes open, surveying the surroundings. His eyes drag heavily around the room but meet no opponents.

Shame fills him. Of course the Dark Lord's room would be protected by curses. He hadn't even considered the possibility that there would be more than physical attackers. If anything, he's lucky it's just a cruciatus curse. His body could have been blown to pieces, his head could have exploded, his innards could have been ripped from his body.

At least with this curse, it was superficial pain. His veins weren't really filled with acid and his heart wasn't really on fire. But that knowledge didn't help to ease his agony. It would have been better if the first curse protecting the room killed him. At least then it'd be over. Now he's stuck with the knowledge that as soon as the Death Eaters find him, he'll be tortured until his final breaths. Voldemort doesn't take kindly to traitors.

Instead of dwelling on sombre thoughts in his final moments, his mind instead turns to the one bright light to ever touch his life. Her smile is the last image his mind sees as the sound of heavy steps outside the room remind him of his imminent doom.

..

Snape's stunned eyes scan the crowd entering the hall before realising that Harry Potter is not amongst the intruders. Students part to let the group in, some cheering, some sneering, some not knowing what's going on. Hermione holds back her urge to wretch at the sight of the bloodied and bruised children, especially the first years. A little girl with a bandaged arm and a deep gash on her cheek gazes at Hermione and she smiles. Filling these children with hope is all she can do right now.

Well, nearly all she can do.

Before anyone has the chance to stop her, whether wisely or not, Hermione raises her wand and sends a series of increasingly powerful and vulgar spells at the 'headmaster' in front of her. Startled, the greasy haired wizard barely manages to block the attacks. All of her anger filters through her wand and explodes in showers of multi-coloured lights as spells she had never even considered using make a beeline for Snape.

Before Snape has the chance to fire back, Kingsley places an arm in front of Hermione. She lowers her wand, but lets the glower on her face stay, her hatred obvious.

'Leave, Severus, before I let her continue.'

Snape eyes Kingsley curiously, his eyes hard. 'Where is Harry Potter?'

'I don't think you were listening. Leave. For old time's sake, I'm giving you one last chance to get out of here. You're not the man I thought you to be.'

If any emotion met the old potion's master at that statement, it does not show on his pale face. Instead, Snape slowly raises his wand at the group in a silent threat.

Hermione opens her mouth to retaliate, but soon the air is alive with magic. McGonagall, the kind, elderly, stern witch who had always guided and helped the Golden Trio, is firing spells towards Snape at a rate Hermione had never seen before. She knew the witch to be strong, especially with transformation magic, but she had no idea that she could pack such a punch.

Hermione lifts her own wand, her own magic joining her former professor's in a harsh assault. Snape, easily realising he's outnumbered and out-powered, flees in a swirling black mass, smashing the window as he escapes the onslaught.

A moment's silent meets the win before the students erupt into cheers. Three-quarters of the room applaud loudly and Hermione avoids looking at the quiet house. This is not the time to bring up meaningless emotions. She needs to erase that chapter of her life and move on. She has a war to fight.

McGonagall steps to the front of the room and the noise dies down. 'Mr Filch, please escort the Slytherins to the dungeons where they'll be more... comfortable.'

The care taker grumbles something under this breath but filters the unhappy students out of the room nevertheless.

As those students leave, two more enter. Hermione rushes into the open arms of Harry and Ron as tears start streaming down her face. She hadn't realised her emotional fighting her former professor had left her. It had brought the war right in front of her. It had brought it to a place she knew as home.

Obviously she'd fought before. And she'd had more difficult fights against opponents that fired a lot more deadly spells. But as much as she'd hated Snape, he was still a man she once put her trust in. The trust that a pupil puts in her mentor. And to see the way he'd treated the school she'd loved, the way he'd darkened the atmosphere, the way he'd chilled the air, the way he'd broken the kids' spirits, it had brought the reality of this war to her with a force she hadn't expected. And what she needed right now was a friendly embrace from her two best friends.

Wiping her eyes, she pulls away. 'Snape's gone and the other Death Eaters followed him. The diadem?' she asks.

Harry nods. 'Gone. It put up a fight though,' he says, motioning to his and Ron's soaking wet clothes. Hermione smiles slightly despite herself.

Molly wraps her son in a big hug, pulling Harry towards her immediately after. 'I'm so glad to see you too boys safe!' Almost automatically, she begins scanning the two of them for any injuries. Satisfied that they're all okay, she turns back towards the others. McGonagall had assigned the remaining teachers to take their respective houses to safety, but most of the sixth and seventh year students had stayed behind and seemed to be awaiting further instructions.

Hermione realised they planned on staying to fight. She breaths in deeply. So this is it. This will be the last stand.

She takes in all the faces around her: Lupin and Tonks in a quietly intimate embrace, taking comfort in each other's presence; Fred and George laughing in the corner, somehow finding something to be joyful about in these dark times; Hagrid chatting with some students; Neville talking shyly to Luna, his cheeks blooming crimson; Ginny waiting patiently for her turn to steal Harry again; and then the three of them. The original trio, the _Golden Trio_. Her best friends. Her family.

She smiles at her boys again. They would win this. Together.

She points them all towards McGonagall. 'Let's get ready for this fight, shall we?'

..

Draco's body doesn't relax when the cruciatus curse is lifted. It tenses, bracing for the worst.

His body is still tense when he feels a familiar pair of arms around his body. His mother's arms.

So they found her too. They're killing them together.

His eyes are scrunched tight as he feels the familiar tingle of magic in the air.

And then he apparates.

Confused, Draco opens his eyes as his feet meet solid ground again. The weakened frame of his mother is clinging to him in an unusually intimate display of affection. Just to his left stands Blinky, shyly smiling at him. He observes his surroundings. A field not too far away from the Manor. Of course, Blinky hasn't been far away from their home. She was never brought on long trips.

'Blinky? What happened?' he asks, his voice hoarse from screaming before.

'Blinky rescued Master Draco, yes she did. When the men in the cloaks came, Blinky did as she was tolds. She showed them the fake Master Malfoy and stopped them from summoning the Dark Lord. But then another man came, and said that Draco was fighting in the hall and he needed people to come back. But Blinky didn't let them, no she didn't. She made them all sleep and then she came and found Draco. But you was in pain, because the room wards caught yous. So Blinky stopped the curses and then we took you here.' She points excitedly around them, as if in nervous anticipation.

Draco takes that in for a moment. What he had ever done to deserve this little creature's loyalty, he would never know. And he would never be able to repay the debt that he owed her. Especially considering she would probably refuse any sort of reward he could offer. House elves really were strange creatures.

'When you say you made them sleep?' he asks.

'Blinky thinks wizards call it a stunning spell, but Blinky likes to think that they are sleeping.'

Draco nods. He looks down at the blonde hair of his mother, whose head is still buried in his shoulder, her arms still wrapped tightly around his frame. He gently prizes her off of him. At his touch, she pulls away, as if suddenly aware of herself. She straightens up, her arms automatically patting down her dress to flatten it. 'I'm glad you're safe, Draco. You worried me.'

Draco nods, still unsure how to show emotion properly around his mother.

The realisation that Draco failed in his task suddenly catches up with him. Nagini is still alive. And whilst Nagini is alive, Voldemort will stay alive.

Not that she had been in the room anyway. It seems the Dark Lord was taking no risks. He probably kept the snake with him at all times. Draco wonders whether the others had succeeded in destroying the diadem. He wonders where they are now. He wonders if they're safe. If she's safe.

'What happens now?' Narcissa asks.

Draco stops to think. His plan really just involved getting his mother out of the Manor. He hadn't really developed his plans properly from there. What does happen now? Where does he take his mother?

He sits down on the damp grass, contemplating. 'Mother, can you think of anywhere safe? Anywhere you've been before that you can trust? Anywhere- anywhere that father doesn't know about?' He cringes at the last statement. As much as he can easily drop his father from his life, he's not so sure his mother can. Whether deserved or not, she loves him.

His mother flinches at the implication but understands. Neither of them can be sure whether or not Lucius will stay loyal to the Dark Lord or his family.

Slowly, she nods. 'There was a vacation home that I once visited with Bellatrix and Andromeda before I was betrothed to your father. I don't know if I ever told him about it.'

'And you remember where it is? And you'll be safe there?'

She nods and then pauses. 'You mean _we'll_ be safe there, Draco?' she asks, her slim eyebrows pulled together. Draco looks down and shakes his head.

'Blinky will accompany you and help take care of you until this is over. But my fight is not done yet. I know you don't agree and I would never ask you to go against what you believe. But I need to stand up for what I believe. And I can't let innocent people die for something as petty as blood for any longer.'

His mother appraises him. 'You really have changed, haven't you? What got to you?' she pauses. ' _Who_ got to you?' Draco doesn't answer, but can tell from how his mother stiffens that his silence tells her all she needs to know. For a moment, he expects her to turn tail and run right back to the Manor, but instead she simply steps forward, offering her hand to the little House Elf. Blinky takes it, ready to apparate when told. 'Be safe, my son. I shall find you when this is over.'

'Good bye, mother.' With that, his mother disappears in a swirl of colour and Draco is left alone again.

A slight weight is lifted from his shoulders at the knowledge that his mother is safe. No matter what happens to him, at least he got her out. But his mother is not the only woman he cares about. And whilst the Dark Lord is alive, Hermione is in danger. That thought alone was enough to push him towards his decision to fight. He'll return to Hogwarts. He'll save the woman he loves. And then he'll beg her to forgive him. He can only hope.

His wand in his hand, he focuses on his destination. Hogwarts.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I know, I know, it's been ages! I'm so sorry for leaving this chapter for so long again. I've had most of this chapter written for a while but to keep a long story short I got a new job and I've been struggling to find time to write. Thanks for bearing with me. It's great to see so many of you still following the story!

I'll try to update soon! As always, please leave a review, I love hearing your comments :)


	18. Chapter 18

Most of the Hogwarts' professors had converged in the Entrance Hall, discussing tactics to best defend their beloved school.

Students are dotted around the Great Hall, in various states of distress. Madam Pomfrey is escorting younger students out of the school the same way that Hermione and her friends had snuck in. Hermione looks around and those remaining. Most of those old enough to fight had stayed. Hermione wonders which of these faces she'll never get to see again.

She watches as Ron and Harry approach, having been conversing with Neville and some of the other Gryffindors. 'So, what's the plan?' asks Ron, looking between his two best friends.

Hermione waits for Harry to speak. 'Well, we know from what Dumbledore has told us that there are seven Horcruxes, and we know that five have been destroyed. It makes sense that Nagini is the sixth. I guess we'll have to hope that the seventh will reveal itself in due course. I doubt Voldemort will leave it too far from him now, knowing how vulnerable he is if it's destroyed.'

Ron pulls a Basilisk fang from the pocket of his robe. 'And we have this to destroy whatever it is.'

Hermione nods. She fights the tears she feels welling up behind her eyes. This is not the time for crying. A moment of weakness in the battle to come could mean the difference between life and death. She pulls her best friends in for a hug, taking comfort in their warmth.

'It's really happening, isn't it?' asks Ron.

Hermione nods. 'It all comes down to this.'

'How are we going to go after Nagini? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't going to let her out of his sight.'

'About that... I have a plan, and I don't think you're going to like it,' admitted Harry. Hermione turns her eyes to the dark haired wizard, already sensing the words about to leave his mouth. 'I need to fight Voldemort.'

Ron's eyes widen, worry for his friend written in every line of his face. 'You can't, not whilst he's immortal.'

'I have no choice. It's the only way any of us are going to get close enough to Nagini to kill it.'

'What about the seventh horcrux?'

'I... I don't know. But do you have any better ideas?' After a moment, Ron shakes his head. Hermione just sighs. It was the only plan that had crossed her mind too, though she would never have suggested it for fear for her friend.

She stares at Harry for a moment, taking in his dark, messy hair; his friendly green eyes that have seen more pain than most people could bear; his brave smile. Hermione is not prepared to let this boy die.

'We'll get through this,' she says, smiling confidently. 'We've gotten out of worse scrapes than this before, right?' Her mind flickers across all the adventures the trio had endured.

'True, we did escape from a werewolf near enough unscathed,' Harry mentions.

Hermione smiled, 'yeah, well he did apologise afterwards.' The three laugh. 'And you've fought a Basilisk and won, Harry. Not many wizards can say that.'

Harry nods, smiling. 'Wouldn't have even known it was a Basilisk I was facing if it wasn't for you, though, Hermione.'

Ron looks between his two friends. 'Yeah, well I was attacked by a giant chess piece and I survived,' says Ron. Hermione can't help herself and a loud guffaw bursts out of her. Harry follows suit, the two of them in fits of chuckles. 'What?' asks Ron. 'It was scary!'

The laughter dies out slowly, and Hermione looks at her friends again. When she first came to Hogwarts, she knew what to expect for her classes, and her spells, and her exams. But she never accounted for her two best friends. Her two best friends who'd get her into more danger and trouble than she could possibly imagine. But she wouldn't trade them for the world.

'Well then, Harry, just one giant snake and an immortal wizard to defeat, then we can put this whole war thing behind us,' says Ron, patting his friend on the shoulder. 'Let's get started, shall we?'

..

Knowing that Apparating within Hogwarts' grounds was impossible, Draco chose a destination he thought might be safe from detection; the platform where the Hogwarts Express train arrives and departs. He suspected that Hogsmeade would be under watch, as that would be the most obvious place to get to Hogwarts from. Whilst his plan would involve travelling further overall, if he could avoid detection, he might actually make it to Hogwarts alive.

Unlike every time he'd arrived at this station in the past, there were no carriages to take him to the school. Draco couldn't shake the memory of the carriage journey this year. This year, unlike any other year that Draco could remember, the carriages did not move by themselves. Instead, they were pulled by large creatures that looked like skeletal winged horses. Draco hadn't said anything, because no one else had. In fact, no one else seemed to notice them at all. But Draco could, and he couldn't stop staring at them.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Draco surveys the area. Clear.

Luckily, he'd been right in suspecting that Voldemort would place his forces in more obvious locations. The station was a few miles from the school, so it would take him a little longer to reach his destination. Draco set off walking at a fast pace, but keeping to the shadows as much as he could.

Just as a precaution, he sets a disillusionment charm on himself. Better safe than sorry.

He listens to the ground crunching beneath his feet; the birds chirping in the trees.

Alone as he is on this abandoned trail, the world could almost be a peaceful place. He could almost forget about the battle to come, the one that would most likely decide the fate of this war. He wonders how different his life would be if he hadn't saved the muggle-born being tortured on his floor what felt like years ago.

What if he hadn't saved Hermione? What if she hadn't saved him?

What if he hadn't fallen for her? He ponders over that thought for a moment. Right now, loving her seems so easy, so natural. The thought of her bushy hair, her bright smile, her chocolate eyes, it gives him a warmth he'd never known before. It felt so odd to him that it would be possible to not feel this way about her. But he'd hated her for years. At least, he'd thought he had. Now he's not so sure.

One thing was for sure, though: if he hadn't saved her that day, he most likely would not be on the way to go battle against the Dark Lord, to battle against everything he'd been brought up to believe.

His thoughts flicker momentarily to his father. His mother was safe in a place unknown to anyone else. But his father... As far as Draco knows, his father is still at the Dark Lord's side, trying desperately to regain favour. What would Draco do if it came down to battling his father? What if they had to cross wands on the battle field?

He'd never liked his father, of course. He'd worshipped him, he'd idolised him, but he'd never really liked him. His father didn't show affection the way a father should.

Draco vowed then and there that if he were ever to be lucky enough to have children of his own, he'd show them how much he loved them every single day. He couldn't help but imagine a bunch of mini Hermiones and Dracos, little blonde menaces and bushy haired bookworms. He smiles. The thought comforts him, despite everything. Of course, even if he somehow survived this war, Hermione might never take him back. He betrayed her at a time she needed him the most. Even if he did it for good reasons.

Draco sighs. Life was so much simpler when he didn't have to think for himself. When he didn't have to work out what is good and what is bad, and where he fits along the scale.

Looking up, Draco realises he'd been walking for longer than he thought. The castle walls loom above him. Hogwarts.

..

With as many wards protecting Hogwarts as possible, Harry, Ron and Hermione join the rest of the students and teachers that have stayed to help in the Great Hall.

McGonagall was still trying to set up protections for the school. Hermione was listening to her describing a plan to Seamus and Neville that involved a lot of explosives and the wooden bridge at the rear of the school. Hermione could see the glint of excitement in the Irish wizard's eyes at the thought of blowing something up. It would scare her if she didn't know the fun-loving wizard so well.

Hermione takes a deep breath. No one knows how much longer they have. Harry had seen that Voldemort knew they were here and that he would prepare his troops and attack. But that could be any time from five minutes to days or even weeks. Hermione expected that it would be soon. Voldemort wouldn't give them too much time to prepare.

She thinks of her parents for a moment. Her parents who don't even know they are parents. At least they're safe. She imagines all the fun they're having in Australia, away from all the trouble and turmoil happening in the UK. If she survives this, she will find them. And if she can, she'll help them remember her. She grimaces for a moment at the thought of how mad they'll be. But then she smiles. Because at least she'd have them back.

She'd take them being furious at her for the rest of her life if it meant she could have them back.

Suddenly, a loud bang emanates from outside. Hermione follows the rest of the witches and wizards outside of the school.

A large gathering of witches and wizards in dark cloaks stand in the distance. Impossible to miss, Voldemort stands at the front. They've all stopped, as if preparing to negotiate. Hermione wonders how Voldemort intends to speak to them; even a strong sonorous charm would struggle to amplify his voice enough to cross such a distance.

Her question is soon answered, though, as a soft, snakelike voice fills her head.

' _I know you are preparing to fight.'_ Screams erupt from several students, clearly surprised to have the Dark Lord's voice in their mind. _'I know you think that fighting is the only answer... But there is another way.'_ Hermione shudders. The cold voice send shivers down her spine. _'Each drop of magical blood spilled today would be a waste. I do not want to harm you.'_ Hermione waits for the sentence she knows will come out of the dark wizard's mouth next. _'Give me Harry Potter._

Hermione looks across to her best friend. Harry is paler than usual, but his stance shows a fight within him that stems from years of hatred.

 _'Give me Harry Potter, and I will spare you. I will spare your school, I will spare your teachers, I will spare your families. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until Midnight.'_

The voice retreats from their minds and everything is silent for a few seconds. And then everyone is on their feet; a panic has settled over everyone. Hermione hears one girl sob, 'I want to go home.'

Voldemort's message had managed to sink fear deep into the bones of everyone there. Even McGonagall, with her stern features and her good heart, looked rattled. For a moment, Hermione feels a sinking sensation in her stomach, a sensation that suggests they might not win this. But she pushes the feeling aside as soon as it begins to settle. Worrying would do no good now.

It seems McGonagall feels the same. The Professor hushes the crowd with a few words, and begins assigning students and teachers sections of the castle to guard. Fortunately, no one seems inclined to take up Voldemort's 'generous' offer. Hermione watches as Fred and George begin walking to their assigned area, jokingly pushing each other from side to side, grins on their faces. Even with the end of the world as they know it looming, Fred and George would always find something to be happy about.

The Order of the Phoenix are split up, each experienced witch or wizard going to a different area of the castle with some students and a teacher. Professor Flitwick tries to keep up with Kingsley's long strides, a few Ravenclaw students in tow.

When everyone has been assigned, McGonagall turns to the trio. 'So, I'm guessing you three already have your own plan?' she asks.

Harry nods, 'Yes, Professor.'

McGonagall smiles sadly. 'I think just Minerva would be fine for now, Harry.'

Ron grins. 'How about Minnie?' he asks. The older witch turns a harsh stare to the ginger wizard. 'No? Okay.'

Hermione laughs, but the sound doesn't last long. McGonagall pulls the three of them into a motherly hug, displaying an affection she doesn't normally show so freely.

'Be safe.'

'You too.'

With that, the teacher walks into Hogwarts.

Hermione turns to her friends. 'So, I have a question,' she says. 'How do we kill Nagini? Is a live Horcrux different to an inanimate object? Will it be enough just to like chop off her head or something? Or do we need to do more than that?'

'Woah, Mione, you said one question, not a hundred,' complains Ron. Hermione sends him a patronising look. 'Fine. Well, Harry and I already thought about that.' Ron lifts a Basilisk fang from his robe pocket, carefully wrapped up in some scraps of cloth. Hermione beams at him.

'Since when did you get so smart? Soon enough, you won't need me to do your homework for you,' says Hermione, rubbing Ron on the head.

'Oi, get off.' Ron bats her hand away, but holds on to it a little longer than necessary. Hermione turns away.

It had been quite a long time since she'd thought of Ron that way. Apparently that wasn't the case for him. But now wasn't the time for that. She'd sort out petty things like emotions after this battle. When hopefully a particular blonde would be a lot farther from her mind.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I know it's been a while again since I updated (sorry!) but hopefully you'll all like this chapter.

What did you all think about Draco being able to see the thestrals? I realised when I was writing about it that the books never made it clear whether he would have been able to see them or not, but I think he would have been able to see them in his seventh year, as he went back for the first term.

As always, please leave a review :)


	19. Chapter 19

' _Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until Midnight.'_ Draco shudders as the Dark Lord's voice retreats from his mind.

He assumes the message wasn't meant for him but he was in its targeted radius. He wonders whether this means that Voldemort knows his location, but brushes the thought away. It won't help to worry about things beyond his control.

So, he has until Midnight to find his way into Hogwart's undetected and find Hermione before the fighting begins. If he can only do one thing during this battle, it will be protect her, even if she doesn't want her protection. Although the chance of getting near her before having his balls hexed off by either Harry or Ron would be slim, he'd take the risk.

Edging closer to the school, Draco starts sensing strong magic. Wards.

He silently curses. He'd hoped he'd get there before the professors had increased the magical protections. There would be no way he could get in unannounced. He was nowhere near strong enough to begin to tackle the wards that had been placed.

Stopping in his tracks, he considers his options. Whilst the wards didn't feel malevolent, there was no guarantee they wouldn't burn him up on the spot if he tried to pass them. He knew of a few secret entrances into the school, but they would most likely be blocked as well. He knew the Weasley twins frequently used them during their multiple shenanigans. His mind flutters over all possible courses of action. Most of them end with a painful death. He curses under his breath.

He decides the best course of action would be to try approaching from the rear entrance; the bridge. Hopefully, it would be the least guarded and with the weakest wards. If he could find a way in there, he could hopefully pass through most of the school without being caught.

Treading carefully along the track that leads to the bridge, Draco slows down. Two figures stand halfway across the bridge, fixing something along the structural supports beneath. Draco can tell by their height and build that the two are males and most probably in the same year as him, but he can't work out who the two are. He draws slowly closer. The trees will only provide him cover for a little bit longer. Whilst the two seemed engrossed in their task for now, they would spot him soon enough.

Apparently creeping into the castle subtly is out of the question. Raising all the nerves he can muster, Draco walks towards the bridge, hoping that the two wizards wouldn't attack him on sight, and would at least allow him to speak.

Sensing the wards again and knowing he can go no further, Draco stops, staring at the two. From this closer perspective, he can see the familiar glint of red amongst the Hogwarts uniform.

Griffindors. Draco sighs. As if the odds weren't against him already.

As he thinks that, one of the wizards' heads shoots up, as if hearing his thoughts. He recognises the wizard as Seamus Finnigan, an Irish half blood with a tendency to blow things up. Seamus quickly grabs the attention of the other wizard - Neville Longbottom - and the two are firing spells at Draco in an instant.

Draco blocks the attacks, resisting the urge to throw any hexes back. He needs to convince them he's not the enemy. Judging by the furious hatred painted on their faces, that would be easier said than done. The two wizards show clear skill in their duelling, but Draco had practised against a lot more vicious opponents at a lot worse odds. Eventually, the two seem to catch on that Draco isn't actually fighting them.

Stopping in their attack, but still with wands raised, the two glare at him. At some point in the duelling, the three had come within a few metres of each other, but the Gryffindors were still safely behind the wards. 'He said we have until Midnight, what are you doing here?' spits Neville, icy venom coating every word. Draco doesn't even recognise the weedy boy he used to bully. Standing in front of him now is a tall, muscular wizard with a gaze that shows the extent of the horror he's seen. Clearly the war had toughened up the herbology nerd.

'I'm not here because of the Dark Lord.' Draco takes a moment to phrase his next sentence. 'I no longer serve him.'

Seamus scoffs. 'Since when?' he asks, his Irish lilt still as strong as ever. 'You can't seriously expect us to believe that.'

Draco looks between the two. He really doesn't expect them to believe him. He wouldn't trust him if the roles were reversed. But he'd come too far, changed too much, to give up now. 'No, I don't expect you to believe that, but I need you to, because it's the truth. If we had time for veritaserum I'd happily oblige. But considering the battle about to happen, it's not really a plausible option.'

'You're right, we don't have time. We're about to fight in a bloody war. So why don't you crawl back to whatever hovel you came from and let us get on with our preparations, and accept the mercy we're showing you by not killing you on the spot, as I'm sure you'll do to tens of us if given the chance,' says Neville, unwavering.

'You can take me as your prisoner, if that will ease your tension. But I meant what I said. I no longer serve the Dark Lord. I haven't for a while now. I need to enter Hogwarts because...' Draco trails off, not knowing how to admit his reasons for being there.

'Because?' presses Seamus.

'Because... I have someone I need to see.'

'And who might that be?'

Draco considers his next course of action. He could lie. He's a good liar. But something in him presses him to tell the truth. 'I'm hear to see Hermione Granger. I have unfinished business with her.'

..

Hermione had been lost in her thoughts when the sound of her name caught her attention. Seamus approaches where she's perched on the stairs in the Entrance Hall. 'Err, Hermione, we need you,' he says, his nerves obvious.

Hermione stands up, walking over to him. 'How can I help? Do you and Neville need help setting up the explosives?' she asks, wondering why they would come to her for help. Her expertise lies with book smarts and spells, not pyrotechnics.

'... No. There's someone who needs to see you.'

'Who is it?' she asks, wondering why the Irish wizard seemed so on edge. 'Couldn't they come see me themselves?'

She starts walking with him towards the rear of Hogwarts, intrigued and confused.

'No. They couldn't.'

'Well, who is it?' she asks, slightly frustrated with all the mystery. But at that moment she steps outside and she no longer needs Seamus' explanation. Even at this distance, she'd recognise that glint of white-blonde hair anywhere. She stops in her tracks, half of wanting to race towards him and half wanting to flee from the upcoming confrontation as soon as possible. 'What- what's he doing here?' she asks, her words weak on her tongue.

Due to her inner conflict, she was unable to take a step towards or away from him. Seamus seems to measure her response with interest. 'Says he doesn't follow the Dark Lord anymore and that he needs to see you. He was adamant about it. Wouldn't leave.'

Hermione's anger begins to boil as the hurt she felt at his betrayal comes crashing back with untameable force. 'Why did you let him stay? Why didn't you fight him?' she demands.

'We tried, the bastard wouldn't fight back. Felt weird firing spells at someone who refused to duel, especially when it a Death Eater, so we asked him what we was doing here. Didn't get much out of him. He said you'd be able to vouch for him.'

Hermione almost laughs. Vouch for him? Vouch for the man who'd stolen her heart only to flee in the night? Right back to the wizard he'd said he no longer followed. Not. Likely.

As if a switch had been flicked inside of her, Hermione begins storming across the bridge. That bastard thinks he can shit all over her emotions and get away with it? He thinks she'll place her trust in him again? He has another thing coming.

Raising her wand, a stream of increasingly vulgar and deadly spells fly out, all aimed at the blonde's head.

Still marching towards him, Hermione's frustration increases as Draco deflects each of her attacks, without firing any of his own back. She wants a fight. A bloodthirsty fight. But as quickly as her fury had been sparked, it drains out of her. She drops to her knees, unwanted tears flowing down her cheeks.

'Hermione, are you okay?' asks Neville, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

She sniffles. Instead of responding to him, she directs her words at the Slytherin. 'Why? Why are you hear?' Her words come out weaker than planned, and with a lot less spite.

'Hermione...' Draco begins, his pain clear in his voice.

She jolts her head up. 'Don't call me that, Malfoy. You lost every right to speak to me as if-' she nearly chokes on her words, 'as if you care.'

Neville backs off slightly, clearly confused by the exchange.

'Please, let me explain. It's not what you think.'

A mirthless laugh escapes her mouth, making her sound more than a little insane, but it doesn't bother her in the slightest. 'I've made the mistake of trusting you before, Malfoy... It won't happen again.' Without moving, Hermione wordlessly casts an incarcerous spell at the wizard. Catching him off guard, ropes bind Draco.

'Hermione, please, you have to listen to me. You need to let me explain.'

'I don't need to do anything, Draco. You've made it clear where your loyalties lie.'

'Hermione, I lov-'

Hermione silences him with a spell and turns to Neville and Seamus, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. 'Take him to the dungeons. He can be trialled after this war with the rest of the Death Eaters.'

With that, Hermione storms back across the bridge, not knowing where she's going to go or what she's going to do, but knowing she needs to leave.

Why did he come back? He could have been killed on the spot. Why risk it just to toy with her emotions again? Unless-

No. Hermione stops her thoughts in their tracks. No. She will not consider the possibility of any sort of truth in his words. If she entertains those kind of thoughts, her resolve could waver. She can't be betrayed by him again. It'd kill her. Better not to trust him.

Hermione walks back into the castle, all attempts at clearing her mind before this battle destroyed.

..

Draco watches her leave, the pain in his heart too crippling to bear. He drops to his knees, unable to scream because of the spell she'd cast. He's vaguely aware of the gormless looks of the two other wizards who were clearly confused by the conversation, but he can't take his focus off of his bushy haired witch. He'd clearly hurt her more than he had thought.

If he could, he'd kick himself for believing he might have a chance to repair the damage done.

He turns his gaze to the floor, and towards the sharp drop of the cliff either side of the bridge. He momentarily considers making a dive for the rocky grounds beneath. If the wards didn't kill him, he could at least be sure that a drop from this height would. He shakes off the thoughts. Killing himself would do no one any good. Except it would save Longbottom and Finnigan the job of finding somewhere to incarcerate him for the duration of the battle.

Speaking of which, the two Gryffindors turn their confused expressions back to him, having watched Hermione storm off.

'So... what do we do with him?' asks Seamus, looking towards Neville for guidance. Draco vaguely wonders when Neville became such a leader figure, but the thought doesn't plague him for long. Instead, he focuses on his next plan of action.

'We do as Hermione said. We'll take him to the dungeons and find somewhere to keep him locked up and when we win this war, he can be trialled for his crimes.'

Between the two of them, they manage to get him through the wards unharmed. They confiscate his wand and begin marching him towards the school.

Being a Slytherin, Draco knows the dungeons very well. All he can hope for now is that they lock him up somewhere that he knows better than they do. When the fighting starts maybe he can get himself out of there. Find himself a wand. And protect Hermione no matter what the cost to himself.

She may loathe him, but he could never stop loving her.

As they enter the castle, Neville pulls the three of them to a stop. 'Seamus, you'd better find Professor McGonagall and let her know what's happening. I'll take Malfoy to the dungeons and find someone to watch over him until the fighting starts.'

'You sure you can handle him yourself, mate?' Neville nods. 'Alright, I'll find you in a bit.'

The Irish wizard disappears down a corridor and Draco finds himself alone with a Gryffindor he had tormented for years. All of a sudden, he's overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt on a scale he'd never felt before. When he started to become close with Hermione, he'd had his first experience with guilt. Before then, Draco had never cared enough about his actions to feel guilty about them. But whilst his abuse of Hermione had stemmed from years of indoctrination to believe that her blood was not pure, and that meant that she was below him, Neville was a pure blood. And had Neville been sorted into any other house he probably wouldn't have suffered as much as he had at Draco's hands. Sure, Draco had never had any love for Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, but he'd never felt the blind hatred for them as he had for Gryffindors.

Feeling an overwhelming need to apologise for his actions, Draco stops, and begins struggling against his binds. Neville's wand is at his throat in an instant.

'Don't. Try. Anything.'

Draco fights as hard as he can against the spell on his speech. But even being as strong as he is, and as skilled with wandless and wordless magic as he is, he couldn't lift the spell.

But all of a sudden, he doesn't need to. Neville lifts the spell, freeing Draco to speak.

'Thanks,' he says.

'Out with it. Out with whatever you need to say,' he spits.

Draco is taken aback slightly. 'I'm sorry,' he blurts out.

'What?' asks Neville, bewilderment leaking onto his features.

'I said,' starts Draco, 'I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything, Longbottom. You didn't deserve to be treated how I treated you and, for that, I'm sorry. I know that won't even begin to make up for everything, but I hope you can at least consider one day forgiving me.'

Neville doesn't respond immediately, clearly startled. 'Okay, who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?' he asks, a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

Draco smiles slightly. 'The Draco Malfoy you knew in school isn't around anymore. That fact shocks me just as much as it shocks you.'

'Wow, you really have changed, haven't you?' Neville asks, incredulous.

Draco nods. 'She changed me.' He didn't have to give any more information for them to know what he was talking about.

Neville nods slowly. 'I suppose if anybody could, it would be her.' The two are silent for a moment. 'You know that I still have to lock you up, right? Just because you've apologised doesn't mean I trust you.'

Draco smiles again. 'Well, a guy could hope, right?'

The two carry on walking. Neville doesn't replace the silencing charm.

As they descend further down towards the dungeons, Draco loses himself to his thoughts again. Whilst there was no promise of forgiveness in Neville's words, he'd shown Draco a kindness he didn't deserve. Maybe one day he really could begin to atone for all of his actions. Maybe one day, once everyone he'd hurt had forgiven him, he could begin to forgive himself.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Surprise! Two updates in a week, I'm on a roll!

So, we finally had the reunion between Draco and Hermione. What did you all think of it? Do you think Hermione will be able to forgive him?

Please leave your reviews, I want to know what you all think! I'll try to keep updating more frequently :)


	20. Chapter 20

Sweeping through the castle, Hermione heads to the Astronomy Tower, desperate to be alone. Feeling the prickle of tears threatening to erupt again, she quickens her pace. People do not need to see her cry right now. She's supposed to be a beacon of strength, someone that people look up to. Not a bumbling wreck of emotions.

How could he do that to her? Just show up like that?

Taking the steps two at a time, Hermione barrels out into the open, at the top of the tower. She lets her tears break free. 'How could you do that?' she screams.

'I'm guessing you're not talking to me?'

Hermione jerks around, her eyes landing on Harry, who had been sitting in the corner. 'Harry? What are you doing here?'

'I could ask you the same question. What happened?'

Hermione tries wiping at her eyes, but the steady stream of tears doesn't falter. 'I don't want to talk about it,' she mutters, the pain in her heart too deep to express in words.

'You just want to scream it at the distance some more? I can be quiet whilst you do that if you like,' offers Harry, smiling at her sweetly. 'Or a hug? I'm good at those, too.'

Hermione smiles sadly. 'A hug would be great.' She buries her head in her friend's shoulder, taking comfort in his warmth. 'Harry, when did life become so complicated?' she asks.

'For us? Pretty much as soon as we started Hogwarts... Although I guess I could say my life has been complicated since I was born.' Hermione chuckles. He's not wrong there. Between him, Ron and herself, they had experienced more in a few short years than most would in their lives.

'You sure you don't want to talk about it?' Hermione nods her head. 'Is Ron being an arse again?'

'I wish it was something as simple as that... but I don't want to talk about it.' How could Hermione explain to her best friend that the reason she's in so much turmoil is because she accidentally fell for their school enemy? A Death Eater who follows the darkest wizard alive? There was no way you could slip that into a conversation. Harry would probably hate her. Ron would definitely hate her. She hates herself. Draco was someone she knew she shouldn't put her trust in, but she did anyway. And now she's paying for her mistake.

But still, after everything that had happened, she couldn't shake the pull she felt towards him. It was like he was a part of her, dragging her from her body and towards him. It made no sense. Hermione prided herself on her rational mind. Yet here she was, having to fight the urge to run a man who had hurt her.

'Hermione?' She looks up at Harry, staring into his green eyes. 'Trust your instincts. You're not normally wrong.'

'You'd be surprised,' says Hermione, though she feels that Harry's words held a deeper meaning than that. He couldn't know about Draco, could he? They'd been careful to hide their relationship whilst around Harry and Ron. Could Harry have seen more than he'd let on? Hermione doesn't want to know.

Whether Harry knows about what happened between herself and Draco or not, he didn't understand the extent of betrayal she felt. But what did he mean when he said she should trust her instincts? Was he telling her to trust Draco, even after everything?

Hermione berates herself. Harry doesn't know what happened. And Harry is not telling her to trust Draco. That's just her heart talking, wanting to find an excuse to believe in Draco. Wanting to find an excuse to return to him.

'Anyway, I hate to break this moment, but we kinda have a war to fight. By my understanding it's half past eleven, meaning we have about thirty minutes until Voldemort gets mad and tries to kill everyone for not turning me over.' Hermione tries to smile at Harry making light of the situation but it's a struggle. 'Whatever happens, you'll always be my best friend, and I'm always here for you, Mione.' Hermione hugs him again. He's right, they do have a war to fight. And here she is, tormenting herself over a boy again. She really isn't as focused as she prides herself on being. 'Want to practice duelling? It might take your mind off of things, and help you prepare. Wouldn't want the brightest witch of her age being caught out because she didn't practice for once.'

'Sure, but watch yourself. Wouldn't want the chosen one to be caught out because he got injured practising,' retorts Hermione, pushing herself away from her friend and raising her wand. 'Expelliarmus.'

..

Draco sits on his chair and waits. What for, he's not sure. But waiting is all he can do right now. Whether he made some progress with Neville or not, he's still locked in a dungeon, bound to a chair, wandless and alone. Not his favourite situation to be in when a battle is about to commence between two sides who both want him dead.

The steady trickle of water sounds from somewhere behind him; most likely a leaky wall. The dungeons were never the most glamorous place and whilst he would never admit it being a Slytherin, he was never a fan of the dungeons. Too cold, too damp, too bleak. Give him a large sitting room with a fire place any day. He feels a small pang of sadness at the thought that he will probably never again be able to curl up in Malfoy Manor's library next to the large fire place with a book. He almost laughs at the thought. He spent most of his school life making fun of Hermione for being a bookworm and here he was, possibly on the verge of death, and he's missing a library. If only Granger could see him now.

That last thought rings true to him. If only Granger could see him now. Maybe her uncontrollable Gryffindor urges to help people would cause her to set him free and maybe she'd forgive him and maybe she'd run right back into his arms, the only place he wants her to be for the rest of his life.

He smiles pathetically. If only.

Lost in thought, Draco barely notices the door to his chamber open slowly. He doesn't know who he expects when he finally lifts his head, but it's not him. Not Ronald Weasley, his scruffy ginger hair askew on his head.

'Weasel,' says Draco, nodding in acknowledgement. 'I don't expect you're here for a pleasant chat.' Ron remains eerily quiet. Draco can't quite pinpoint the look on the Gryffindor's face. Anger, sadness, jealousy, he can't tell.

Waiting for the wizard to speak, Draco watches as Ron slowly closes the door behind him. He half expects the man to attack him. If the roles were reversed, he knows he would. But that was most likely the Slytherin in him. Gryffindors were a lot less likely to attack someone who couldn't attack back. Still, Ron had plenty of reasons to hate every ounce of Draco's existence, so he couldn't be sure. Not that he could defend himself in his current predicament.

'Are you going to tell me why you're here or are we playing twenty questions?' asks Draco, impatient.

Ron eyes him warily. 'You left us, and now you're back. Why?' he asks.

Draco is taken aback slightly, not having expected the ginger wizard to be so forthcoming. He takes a moment to reply. 'I didn't leave for the reasons you all think I left.'

'Then why did you leave?'

'Why should I tell you?'

'Because if you don't, I might assume you're a traitor and kill you on the spot.'

Draco weighs up the likeliness of the truth in the statement and decides it's not worth the risk of lying. 'I did it to protect... someone.'

'I'm not here for riddles, Malfoy. Would you please answer a question truthfully for once in your life?' Ron sounds genuinely invested in Draco's response.

Draco eyes the other wizard carefully. The boy hadn't insulted him, tortured him or even shouted at him since entering the room. Draco would expect it to be someone under polyjuice potion if it weren't for the fact that there would be no point in someone pretending to be Ron to get answers out of him. 'I went to find my mother,' he answers. It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the full truth.

'That's not the only reason,' Ron states.

'Since when did you become so bloody perceptive?' Draco retorts, annoyance in his words. Draco watches as Ron stares at him. He never knew Ron to be a good Legilimens but he would swear that Ron read something in him then. Read something deep down and hidden. Read something that Draco is sure he's managed to keep off of his face for a while.

'You love her.'

That stops Draco in his tracks. 'I, urr, of course I love my mother.'

'Not her. Hermione. You love her.'

Draco's eyebrows probably meet his hairline with how shocked he is. It's rare that someone leaves him speechless, but here he was, gawking at the statement to pass from the mouth of someone who used to be his enemy. What was probably even more shocking was the lack of anger that filled those words. For someone so well known for his quick temper, he managed to keep his calm very well whilst stating that Draco loved the same woman that he did.

Instead of waiting for Draco to respond, Ron continues. 'And she loves you too... I could see it. I tried to ignore it, tried to make excuses, but I saw it. I know because... because she used to look at me like that once.' Ron runs his hand through his hair and sighs. The sound is so pitiful that Draco almost feels sorry for the heartbroken man. 'Don't get me wrong, I've no fucking clue why she would even take a second glance at you, but... but she could never keep her eyes off of you. And you would always return her stares. Never would have expected a bigoted prick like you to care about someone as amazing as her, but-' Ron sighs again. 'Stop me from continuing, will you? Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you betrayed us and that you never cared for her and that she never cared for you. Tell me that you're not in love with the love of my life.'

Draco doesn't know what to say. 'I- I wish I could.' He looks down. He means that. His life would be so much simpler if he hadn't magically developed emotions that used to be far beyond him.

Ron groans. 'You have no idea how much I wish I could rip your guts from your body right now.' Despite the threat in his words, his voice carries no anger. It was almost as if all the emotion had been drained from him. It was probably the calmest Draco had ever witnessed Ron to be.

'Why don't you?' asks Draco with genuine curiosity. Ron laughs without humour. Draco continues, 'I'm serious. It's not like it's the first time you've wanted to kill me. I'm sure it won't be the last. And here I am, tied up and helpless, and yet you've not even thrown a punch at me. Why not? I'm genuinely intrigued.'

Ron pauses. 'I don't know. Maybe I realised a little while ago that you're not as much of an asshole as I always thought you were? Don't quote me on that, because I'll deny it until the day I die... You're still an asshole, don't get me wrong, just... not so much of an asshole. And maybe because I know how much it'd hurt Hermione, although I'm sure she'd deny it, too. And maybe because I need your help.'

'My help?' Draco almost laughs. 'You'd trust me again, after everything that has happened?'

'I wouldn't say 'again'; I never really trusted you in the first place.' Draco actually laughs at that and even Ron lets out a small smile. 'But if anyone will try as hard as I will to make sure Hermione makes it through this battle, it's you. Because I know you'll put her safety above your own during the fighting. And I'd much rather you die for her than me die for her, because that means she's all mine again when you're gone.' Draco laughs again. 'Hey, I never said my intentions were honourable.'

'So... you're setting me free?' asks Draco, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

'I- I haven't decided yet... I guess I didn't really think it through. I think I was mostly hoping you'd deny everything I said and it would turn out that you really are a traitor. I didn't really plan further ahead than confronting you.'

'Okay... well then I have a question.' Ron looks up expectantly. 'So, let's just say that you do set me free, and let's say that we fight this war and we win and somehow we both survive... what then? What about Hermione?'

Ron pauses, contemplating his answer. 'I guess... that will be her decision.'

Draco smiles sadly. 'I don't think you have anything to worry about then. She hates my guts right now.'

'That doesn't mean she doesn't still love you.' Draco goes to interrupt but Ron continues, 'Neville told me you were here. He told me how Hermione reacted when she saw you. No one reacts that strongly to someone they don't still care about...' Ron trails off. His words are clearly paining him. Draco can't imagine how much it hurts to come to the realisation that the girl you love might end up with a man you hate.

'I'm sorry, Weasley. I never meant for this to happen... if I could go back to being an emotionless asshole, I would. Life was a lot simpler then.'

'Yeah, it would be.'

The two wizards fall silent again. Suddenly an explosion sounds from above and the two immediately look up. It's Midnight.

'Well, made your decision yet? Are you releasing me?' asks Draco.

Ron takes a moment to contemplate, another blast resounding from the world above, before flicking his wand at Draco's restraints. 'Don't make me regret that, Malfoy. And try to protect her.' Ron throws Draco a wand; his wand.

Catching it, Draco responds, 'with my life.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Oooh aren't I good to you! Told you I'd keep up with the quick updates!

I know I always say it, but please leave a review! I took a risk with this chapter, with the exchange between Ron and Draco and I really want to know what you all think about it. And if you hadn't guessed, we're getting into the final battle next chapter so I hope you're all looking forward to it!


	21. Chapter 21

The first blast reverberates through the castle loudly. Hermione's eyes flick to where a barrage of spells are being thrown at the wards on the castle. Fortunately, the wards are strong, and seem to be holding their own. For now.

'We need to get to the others,' says Harry, turning towards the stairs. 'And we need to find Ron.'

Hermione follows her friend, bounding down the stairs and towards the Entrance Hall as a second loud blast sounds. They reach the entrance to the school just as McGonagall animates the suits of armour and the statues that fill the halls of the school to defend the school. Hermione takes a moment to appreciate the magnificence of the spell, overhearing the professor confess to having 'always wanted to do that.'

'Has anyone seen Ron?' Harry shouts to some students standing in a corner, wands out. They all shake their heads.

Hermione feels her worry begin to rise. Where could Ron be? It's not like him to go off on his own, especially given the circumstances. She tries to calm her nerves. She's being paranoid. Ron's fine. Everyone's fine. Voldemort's army hadn't breached the wards yet, although it was only a matter of time. A third shudder shakes the castle, louder than the previous blasts. The wards would not hold much longer.

Suddenly, an almighty roar echoes around the school. Voldemort's spells accompany his army's in attacking Hogwarts, and the wards crumble. As Hermione spins around, ready to face the army charging towards the castle, she sees a familiar flash of red as Ron joins the two of them. Before she has a chance to ask where he was, dark wizards pour into the school, some already carrying injuries having charged through the statues. Hermione fires several stunning spells at wizards at the front of the group, who all crumple to the floor. Blocking some deadlier spells sent her way, runs towards some sixth year students who had been cornered. Quickly disposing of the Death Eaters, she encourages the younger students to take shelter.

Turning around, she notices Harry and Ron, back to back, defending their school against a horde of Death Eaters. She runs into the fray, joining her friends. Her whole world becomes a blur of spells. Block, attack, duck, attack, block, step aside, attack.

But no matter how many enemies they defeat, more pour in, filling every space in the school.

Hermione steps back, and trips on a broken section of the floor. Before she can hit the ground, though, she feels her body magically lifted back into the air and she is placed on her feet. The wizard who had been firing at her crumples as a binding spell hits him, rope sprouting magically to hold him down. Hermione looks behind her, searching for the witch or wizard who had helped her, but whoever it had been had clearly returned to the battle, as no one could be pinpointed.

Turning back to the battle at hand, Hermione knocks down another wizard, but another just takes his place.

'Harry!' Hermione yells over the fighting, 'Harry!'

The dark haired wizard turns at the sound of his name. 'Harry, we need to regroup! Get Ron, follow me!'

Running up the stairs, dodging spells and felling as many of Voldemort's followers as she can, Hermione guides her friends down a corridor and into an empty classroom.

'Hermione, what is it?' asks Harry, huffing, as him and Ron follow her into the room, charming the door locked and setting up some basic wards.

'This isn't working. There are too many of them.'

'Thanks for pointing that out,' Ron scoffs. 'Seriously, Hermione, you pulled us away to tell us that?' asks Ron, heading back towards the door.

'No, Ron. We need to go for Voldemort. We can't beat every single one of his followers, we're out numbered.' Hermione turns to Harry, who seems to ponder over her words.

'You're right,' he says. A sad silence falls over the group. 'So, this is it huh. It's time.' He looks at the two of them. 'You don't have to come with me-'

Hermione stops her friend. 'We do. And even if we didn't have to, we would anyway, because you're our best friend and you will not face this alone.' She draws her two friends into a brief hug. 'But that's enough time being soppy. We have an evil wizard to beat... anyone know where he might be?'

Harry pipes up. 'I do, during the fighting, I had a vision of him in the Shrieking Shack. We can get there using the entrance in the Whomping Willow.' Hermione and Ron nod. 'Just in case this is the last chance I get... I just want to say that you two are the best friends I could possibly ask for. Thanks for, you know, being you.'

Ron punches Harry on the arm in a friendly manner. 'You two, man. But it won't be the last chance you get to say that. We're going to do this. We're going to win.'

Hermione nods in agreement. 'Come on, you two. Let's go.' With that, the three unlock the door to the classroom and head back into the fray, being instantly bombarded with spells.

..

Having followed Ron to the Entrance Hall, Draco holds back as the redhead joins his friends. As much as every instinct in his body urges him to go to Hermione's side, he knows that the last thing she needs in the fight to come is another distraction. Instead, he'll stay back and fight as best he can. He stays in the shadows, eager to avoid being attacked by any of the Hogwarts students who most likely still see him as a Death Eater.

At the sound of the wards coming down, Draco prepares himself, and fires spell after spell at the approaching enemies. Whilst duelling, most of his attention remains on Hermione, making sure she's alright. But it appears his worries are unwarranted as she flies through the battle like a beautiful warrior, her hair as wild as the fire in her eyes. As he's marvelling at her though, she steps back and trips. It takes only a moment for him to recognise the glint of victory in the eyes of her opponent, who raises his wand to end her whilst she's falling. With a quick levitation spell, he puts Hermione back on her feet, and binds her opponent to the floor. Once he's sure she's safe, he ducks back into the shadows so as not to be caught out.

But as soon as he emerges again, she's gone. Jumping back into the fray, he slices down one of Voldemort's followers with a Sectumsempra, and stuns two more. He races up the steps, looking at the battle below but she's nowhere to be seen.

He curses under his breath and takes out another wizard who had been cornering one of the Patil twins. If something happens to her, he doesn't know what he'll do with himself. Seeing no point in standing doing nothing, Draco runs down a corridor, duelling as many wizards as cross his path. Few pose a threat, as his abilities far exceed most of Voldemort's lower level cronies.

Just as he thinks that, though, a familiar face steps into view. His dad.

His dad's eyebrows raise so high they get lost in his silver blonde hair. 'Draco?'

Unsure how to proceed, Draco keeps his wand raised. 'Father.'

Lucius raises his own wand, somewhat reluctantly. 'So it's true? You have betrayed the Dark Lord?' he asks, his voice full of pain.

Draco nods. 'I would explain, but I doubt you'd understand.'

His father pauses, weighing his son's words. 'You fell in love.'

Draco is taken aback slightly. That's two people in one day who saw right through him. Clearly he wasn't as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be. 'I did,' he replies.

'Don't tell me it was with that filthy Mudblo-'

Draco cuts in angrily, 'you will _not_ talk about her like that. You know nothing, father. Nothing about them. I thought I knew what they were, once. Thought I knew that they were beneath us. But we were wrong. I understand that now. And that's why I will fight alongside them, because it's what's right.'

Lucius remains shocked, unsure how to proceed. His wand remains raised.

Draco continues, 'and I will do whatever it takes to make sure that the right side wins this war. No matter what the cost.' Draco lifts his wand higher, fighting the growing weight on his chest. As much as he thought he was prepared for this moment, it's difficult. He never felt any love for his father. Admiration, sure. Respect, for a time. But never love. Still, to prepare to fire on the man that raised him, the man that made him the person he used to be, it was more difficult than he could put into words. 'Go, father. Leave this battle. You have nothing left to fight for anymore. Leave this family, and don't come back.'

'But your mother-'

'My mother is safe, no thanks to you. This is your last warning. Leave.'

Draco raises his wand higher, pointing it at his father's chest, digging deep into himself for the resolve he needs to fire if necessary. But instead his father turns on his heels and flees. He does not fire upon the students who seem to scared to attack him, and blocks the spells that are cast at him. He turns a corner and he is done.

Wishing he had a moment to absorb all of what had just transpired, Draco also turns around and heads in the opposite direction to Lucius. Time is not a luxury he currently has, and he has a witch to find.

..

Running through the corridors, the trio fire curses and spells at as many of Voldemort's followers as they can. Back in the Great Hall, Hermione stops and stares at the carnage below. Bodies litter the floors she used to roam. Emeralds from the hourglass used to measure Slytherin's house points have spilled across the ground, adding a grotesque beauty to the scene. Peeves the poltergeist flies around the room, dropping all manner of objects onto the heads of unsuspecting Death Eaters.

Hermione watches as Dean Thomas goes face to face with Antonin Dolohov, bravely holding his own. Just as the Gryffindor looks as if he's reached his limit, Parvati Patil steps in and swiftly stuns the dark wizard, who crumples to the ground. Satisfied that the two are safe for the moment, Hermione continues on her path down the stairs. She fires a nasty curse at a masked Death Eater, causing painful hives to to erupt on his face. The wizard crumples to the floor, only to be trampled moments later as Hagrid enters the crippled building, a swarm of Acromantulas surrounding him and treading on all the bodies. Hermione doesn't pause to think about the disaster that could be unleashed at trying to control the giant arachnids.

Following Harry and Ron out the front doors, Hermione tries to catch her breath. Rubble lies everywhere, creating unwanted obstacles. Nearly being crushed by a giant, Harry dives to the side. Hagrid's half brother Grawp comes bounding from around a corner and the two giants begin to brawl. Sprinting towards the Whomping Willow, desperate for a momentary relief from the fighting.

Suddenly, Hermione's whole world goes cold. Every ounce of happiness is drained from her being. It's a sensation Hermione has encountered before, but never on this scale. A hundred Dementors pour from the forest, gliding devilishly towards them. Hermione lifts her wand, digging deep for a happy memory to conjure her Patronus. But after all the heartache and pain of the last few months, she finds the task difficult, and the depressing sensation of the Dementors' atmosphere does little to help lift her spirits.

She turns her head to Harry, who can always be relied on for a quick Patronus, but the dark haired wizard looks as forlorn as Hermione feels. Ron looks no better, his usually rosy cheeks drained of colour. The Dementors approach quickly, and it feels as if Hermione's soul itself is being dragged from her body. She realises soon after that that is probably what is happening.

Her body begins to feel weightless, and Hermione relishes what is soon to be the sweet release of Death.

A bright white light washes over her and she smiles. She feels free.

But then the white light leaves. A beautiful silvery dragon chases the Dementors back into the forest.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So how am I spending the last day of 2016? Finishing this chapter for all of you! Hopefully it's worth it.

What did you all think? Sorry this chapter isn't as long as some of the others.

I'll try to update soon!


	22. Chapter 22

Draco stares down at his wand in disbelief.

He doesn't remember casting the spell that caused a silver light to emanate from the tip of his wand. He barely remembers watching as the light transformed into the figure of a majestic dragon. But Draco doesn't think he'll ever forget the feeling of sheer panic that enveloped him as he watched the spark of Hermione's soul being lifted from her body by a Dementor; every ounce of her happiness being drained from her core.

His heart had never beaten as fast as it had in that moment he had exited Hogwarts and saw her body lying there, with one of those hideous creatures hovering over her.

Draco had never liked the Dementors, even knowing they were on his side when he followed the Dark Lord. They'd always left him on edge.

His legs move without a conscious decision, powering him across the battlefield, vaguely aware of his Patronus chasing the Dementors into the forest. He scoops Hermione's frail form into his arms, holding her close.

'Hermione?' he asks, sweeping her tangled hair away from her forehead. 'Hermione?' he asks again, more panic in his voice.

Her chocolate eyes flutter open, filled with confusion. 'Draco?' she asks, gazing up at him. Relief floods through him. She's alive. He saved her. 'Draco? What...?' He shushes her and pulls her up into a sitting position. His eyes dart around, aware that they're still in the middle of a battle. No one seems to be paying them any attention, but as soon as any of the Death Eaters realised that the Golden Trio were all weakened and out in the open, that would soon change. Draco looks over at Harry and Ron, who were both slowly coming to their senses.

'We need to get out of here,' he says to Hermione, pulling her to her feet. She's wobbly, and leans most of her weight onto Draco. Draco knows then that Hermione has not recovered, as there is no way she would willingly accept his help if she could think clearly. Harry and Ron get to their feet, looking warily at Draco.

Harry heads towards him, 'I think I should take her,' he says, moving as if to pull Hermione to his side. Draco twists to cover her body, 'I've got her.' He doesn't want to let her go, not now that he's finally got her back.

Harry looks about to protest, but Ron puts a hand on his arm. 'It's fine, leave it.' Harry turns his shocked gaze to Ron, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, but says nothing further.

'Where shall we go?' asks Draco, very aware of how vulnerable they are.

Ron moves towards the Whomping Willow. 'The Shrieking Shack.' He levitates a small stick and moves it onto the knot at the base of the tree, causing the wild limbs of the tree to still. Draco tries to hide how impressed he is. How he never knew of the secret to the tree, he's not sure. He thought he knew everything about Hogwarts. After all, he successfully snuck several Death Eaters into the school via a vanishing cabinet.

The ginger wizard heads towards a small passage at the base of the tree, almost invisible to anyone not standing directly in front of it. He heads into the tunnel, and Harry motions for Draco to follow. Draco enters the tight passage, struggling due to having to support Hermione. He's not sure why she was affected by the Dementors more so than her friends, but it concerns him. He supports her as they stumble down the dark tunnel.

Draco wonders where the tunnel leads to, trying to create a map of Hogwarts in his mind. If he had to guess, he'd assume they were heading vaguely in the direction of Hogsmeade, but it was impossible to tell. Eventually, Ron stops in front of Draco, and motions for him to be quiet. Draco can hear voices ahead, but can't see where they're coming from. His first thought was that it was more Order members, but that wouldn't make sense with Ron clearly wanting their presence to be unknown.

Then he feels it.

The cold aura that the Dark Lord drags around with him. Ron casts a few silencing spells and turns towards the rest of them.

'Where are we?' asks Draco, guiding Hermione into a sitting position on the floor, and then turning back to the other two wizards.

'At a secret entrance into the Shrieking Shack,' answers Ron, who sends a worried glance towards Hermione. 'It's where we were headed before we were attacked by those Dementors... thanks, by the way, for... you know... saving our lives.'

It takes Draco a moment to understand the gratitude. Though he hates to admit it, the lives of the two boys hadn't even crossed his mind when he'd cast the Patronus charm. He'd only had thoughts for Hermione. But of course, it was because of him that these two were standing in front of him right now. 'Err... you're welcome.'

Harry looks Draco up and down. 'Why should we trust you again?' he asks.

'Well... I did just save your lives,' Draco answers, and then sighs. 'Honestly, I didn't ever betray you. I had some... things... I needed to see to. But nothing I did was for the benefit of the Dark Lord.' He glances at Ron. After their conversation in the dungeons, there seemed to be an unsaid level of trust between the two.

Looking distrustful, Harry continues, 'so you left us for selfish reasons? Why didn't you tell us where you were going; what you were doing?'

'I don't expect you to believe me, but I thought it would be better for you guys if you didn't know.'

Before Harry can interrogate Draco again, Ron interrupts. 'Harry, I don't think now is the best time for this conversation. You have to make a decision whether or not to trust him... and I've decided I trust him.' The look of shock that jumps to Harry's face is mirrored on Draco's. Despite their conversation, and the fact that Ron had set Draco free, trust was never part of the deal. Ron needed Draco to help protect Hermione. For some reason, the fact that the ginger Gryffindor had stood up for Draco like that to his best friend touched him. He never thought he'd feel grateful for anything the Weasel did... then again, he never thought he'd fall for Gryffindor's Princess like he had.

Instead of arguing, Harry just says, 'okay.' It's clear by his tone that, whilst he's not going to put up a fight, he still doesn't trust the blonde.

'How's Hermione?' asks Ron, bending down to check on his friend. Jealousy spikes in Draco as Ron places a hand tenderly to her forehead, checking her temperature, but he fights the emotion, knowing it to be irrational. 'Why isn't she recovering like we did?'

Hermione looks up at the three of them. She's awake, but seems extremely weak. Despite her clearly exhausted state, she shakes her head. 'I'm fine.' She tries to stand up, but is immediately halted by the three wizards, who guide her back into a sitting position.

Harry looks over the witch. 'The first time I encountered a Dementor, I passed out.'

Draco fights a smile. 'I remember... we made fun of you for that for quite a while.' He doesn't need to look at his witch to know the stern look she's sending him.

Ignoring the jibe, Harry continues, 'it's not necessarily a cause for concern, she just needs time to recover. Have any of you got any chocolate?' The two boys shake their heads. 'I think we should let her rest then. She'll be fine.'

'How are we going to let her rest? We can't just leave her here,' points out Draco. He pulls off his robe and sets it across her like a blanket. Hermione doesn't look at him, but accepts the robe. It's a start, Draco thinks. One step closer to possible forgiveness. He tries not to get his hopes up. 'What's the plan? Why are we exactly where the Dark Lord wants you to be - exactly where he is?'

He steps around Ron to assess their location. He can see light coming through some wooden boards - a crate, by the looks of things - at the end of the tunnel. Muffled voices creep through the cracks in the crate, and Draco vaguely realises that Voldemort is talking to one of his Death Eaters. Turning back to the others he asks, 'you do realise that the strongest and darkest wizard alive, a wizard who wants more than anything to kill you, is a few feet away? How is this a good idea? You're not planning on taking him on are you?' Incredulity fills his voice. Considering that this boy was supposed to be the one who would save the world, he was acting extremely stupidly.

'Of course we know he's there, that's why we're here. But no, we're not taking him on right now, not quite... we think Nagini is his sixth Horcrux. Once we've taken her out-'

'- then you still have a possible seventh Horcrux before Voldemort loses his immortality,' interrupts Draco. 'You guys think there are seven, right? So, what? You're going to risk your lives to kill a giant snake, to make an immortal wizard slightly less immortal?' he asks.

'Do you have a better idea?' asks Harry.

Draco ponders for a moment. 'Well, right now we're at the advantage - the Dark Lord doesn't know we're here. I doubt he even knows this passage exists, otherwise he would have destroyed it. We can spy on him for a bit, see if he gives away any hints to what the seventh Horcrux is. At least then if manage to kill Nagini, we have somewhere to go after that.'

Thinking over his words, Harry nods. 'Okay, but just remember that the longer we spend hiding out in this tunnel, the likelier it is that more of our friends are dying,' says Harry, sorrow tinging his words. Draco doesn't respond, knowing that no words he could offer would provide comfort.

Ron and Harry head towards the crate, listening to whatever's happening on the other side. 'Let me know if anything happens,' says Draco, before turning to Hermione, who had stayed quiet throughout the conversation.

Settling to the floor next to her, he waits for her to say something, anything.

It takes a while, but eventually her soft voice asks, 'why did you leave?' The pure agony behind the words punches Draco straight in the heart.

'I know you have no reason to believe me... but I thought I was doing what was best for you.'

Hermione scoffs, 'you're right, I have no reason to believe you.'

'Hermione-'

'Please,' she says, her pain evident, 'please don't lie to me. Please don't try to comfort me. You've hurt me enough. If anything you said or did meant anything to you, then just... tell me the truth...' Her eyes don't meet his through her pleas, and he knows that tears are building in them. The knowledge pains him.

'Okay,' he agrees, shifting slightly closer. She doesn't pull away, but makes no movement towards him herself. Her head still hangs low. 'I left for a reasons. I needed to find my mother... I needed to make sure she was safe.'

'But you could have told me!' This time Hermione turns her head towards Draco, and she makes no attempt to hide the water falling from her eyes, rolling down her rosy cheeks.

'I know, I know. I should have, but I really did think I was protecting you by keeping the knowledge from you. Hermione, there's no future with me. I'm either going to die in this war, or I'm going to spend the rest of my days in Azkaban. And no matter how selfish I used to be, or how selfish I probably still am, I couldn't put you through that for my own gain. I couldn't justify keeping you, when all I would do is cause you pain.'

Silence falls for a moment, and Draco allows Hermione to digest his words.

'You could have let me make the decision myself, instead of just disappearing,' she replies, her voice soft again. Her eyes turn to the floor again, and she suddenly seems very interested in a piece of dirt at the bottom of her robe. 'You could have explained that. You could have left a note, or anything. Anything that would let me know you weren't betraying us.'

'I know... I watched you wake up, I watched you as you realised I'd left and, Hermione, I've never felt as guilty as I did then. To see how I made you feel... it killed me! Please, please believe me. I realised as soon as you left that I made a mistake, but I thought you'd be better off without me.' He reaches towards her, but she pulls away, and he tries to ignore the sting of her rejection. 'I knew that if my family, or any of the Death Eaters found out how I felt about you, it would make you even more of a target.'

She looks up again, 'how you felt about me?' she asks, her big brown orbs glistening with moisture.

'Isn't it obvious? I'm in love with you, Hermione.'

Her eyes widen, as if shocked my his confession.

'How could someone with a brain as big as yours not realise that? Hermione, you weaselled your way into a heart I never knew I had, and I don't think there's a chance that I'll ever be able to let you leave it. I love you, my witch.' This time Hermione doesn't pull away, and allows Draco's hand to softly cup her cheek. She leans into it instinctively, her eyes scrunched together, as if to stop herself crying.

It seems like a lifetime before she speaks again, but eventually she looks up at him and says, 'I really wish I could hate you, Draco. But I can't. I swear to Merlin if you ever hurt me again, I'll hex your balls off.'

Draco feels his hopes rising, a weight slowly lifting off of his chest. 'Do you mean... do you forgive me?'

'No.' Draco's heart falls. 'But I'll try,' she says, lifting her hand to cup his.

Knowing she probably needs space to adjust, but unable to stop himself, Draco pulls her into his arms. Warmth spreads through him at the proximity. He never thought he'd be so lucky as to have a second chance with someone so amazing, but Hermione lifts her arms around him and pulls him closer.

Ever so quietly, he hears her whisper, 'I love you, too.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So here it is, Hermione and Draco finally get to talk things out!

It's been a slightly strange chapter to write, as it's all in Draco's perspective, but we'll see Hermione's side of things in the next chapter!

Please leave a review, I want to know what you guys think! I'll try to update soon :)


	23. Chapter 23

Hermione watches as the three boys discuss something by the entrance to the Shrieking Shack.

What an odd situation to be in, she muses idly. Recovering from a Dementor attack, saved by a man who previously thought he was too evil to even cast a Patronus, sitting in a hidden passageway, watching her two best friends and their former enemy eavesdrop on the most evil wizard of their generation.

What an odd situation indeed.

Her mind is still reeling over the happenings with Draco. As per usual, her mind is at war with her heart. Her mind is angry that she'd fallen into his arms again so easily after the heartache he'd caused her, but her heart is just happy to have been held in his arms again. His strong, protective arms.

Having gone through more emotional turmoil in the last day than most people would go through in a lifetime, Hermione is surprised she's able to process anything that is happening at all. Not to mention that she'd just nearly had her soul sucked out of her.

Hermione shivers again. She'd never forget that experience with the Dementors, though she wishes she could wipe the memory from her mind forever.

She glances at Harry, Ron and Draco again, their heads tilted towards each other in deep conversation. She could tell from the slight scowl on Harry's face that he's bitter about Draco's involvement, but he seems to be trying to co-operate. On the contrary, Ron's face lacked even a slight grimace at the Slytherin's participation in their plan, which is more than a slight shock to Hermione. There seems to be some unspoken agreement between Ron and Draco, as the two seem to be almost getting along. Shaking her head slightly, Hermione tries to clear her brain. She can't believe she just considered the possibility of Ron and Draco getting along. Clearly she's more shaken up from the Dementor attack than she realised.

Noticing her interest in their discussion, the three boys turn towards Hermione. 'Got a plan?' she asks, attempting to pull her lips up in an optimistic smile.

The boys pause. 'Sort of. But we're still a bit stuck.'

'Try me,' says Hermione, 'maybe I can help.'

Draco walks to Hermione's side, and settles himself down beside her. Expecting a snide comment from Ron, Hermione is surprised to find him tight-lipped. 'We're still unsure what the seventh Horcrux could be, but we're now almost certain that Nagini is the sixth,' explains Draco. Though sat next to her, he seems to be trying hard not to touch her, not to push her too far. She appreciates the space, but a part of her yearns to feel his warmth, a part of her seeks the comfort of his touch. She stays still.

'Is Nagini through there?' asks Hermione, nodding her head towards the crate covering the entrance to the Shrieking Shack.

'Yes... but so is the Dark Lord and that's not all. Snape-' Draco looks like he means to continue, but a loud crashing noise from the Shrieking Shack interrupts their discussion.

The four rush to their feet, and crowd around the blockade, trying to see through the cracks. From her vantage point, Hermione can make out a cloak-covered figure slouched against a wall, clearly having been pushed there moments ago. Then she sees him. Voldemort. Slithering towards his victim like the snake at his side. She strains to hear what he's saying.

Only able to make out a few snippets of the conversation through the muffle of the crate, Hermione pieces the statements together in her mind and realises something shocking: Snape is in control of the Elder Wand. That's why it wasn't working perfectly for Voldemort.

The once proud potions master cowers against the wall, blood staining his dark cloak. Hermione can hear him begging Voldemort to let him bring Harry to him. Begging him, most likely, to spare his life.

Sympathy had never been a feeling she'd felt towards the professor that tormented the Golden Trio at every chance he got, but Hermione feels a sort of pity towards the man right now, as he recoils from the Dark Lord's advances.

At a cue from Voldemort, Nagini slithers menacingly towards Snape, poised and ready. Hermione averts her eyes. No matter what evil the man had committed, she couldn't watch as the snake sank her teeth into him. A cold shiver traces down her spine. Though she's not looking at the murder, she can hear every moment: the broken, tortured sobs of the potions professor; the sound of Nagini striking him down time after time. Hermione could swear she could even hear the smug smile creeping up Voldemort's features.

He really will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

..

Not wanting to see his mentor, his professor, his head of house have the life drained from him by Nagini, Draco trains his gaze on Hermione instead. He takes comfort in the consistent bushiness of her hair, and familiar curve of her body. But her face, likes his, reflects the fear and disgust she's feeling right now. He longs to take her into his arms, to protect her from any situation that would cause her anything other than joy. But he doesn't want to push her away. He might finally have a chance to become a part of her life again. He certainly won't do anything that might scare her away. Anything that might remind her of the hurt he caused her.

The sounds of struggle slowly quieten from the other side of the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. It's done.

Creaky floorboards indicate that Voldemort is retreating from the scene. A quiet 'come, Nagini,' seeps through the cracks of the crate.

All is silent for a moment, whilst the four Hogwarts' students take in what just happened.

'I couldn't stand the bastard... but I can't believe he's gone,' states Ron, quietly. Hermione's hum of agreement can be heard.

Draco doesn't respond. He knew Snape in a different light from the others. Sure, he knew that Snape was an asshole, but he put a lot of time and effort into helping Draco. Snape even killed Dumbledore so that he wouldn't have too.

As if sensing his conflicting emotions, Hermione slowly puts her hand on his arm, trying to provide a comfort that words couldn't give.

'Is he gone? You-Know-Who?' asks Ron, peering through into the Shrieking Shack. Harry nods his head.

A low murmur from the room startles the group. Without waiting to consider whether the idea is wise or not, Draco pushes his way through the old crate blocking the entrance, and kneels down in front of the professor. Without even performing any healing spells, he knows that nothing can be done. The older wizard has already lost too much blood, and more importantly, it seems he's already lost the will to live even if the means of keeping him alive were available.

Draco expects the others to berate him for being so rash and leaving them vulnerable in case Voldemort returned, but instead the three just kneel next to him, watching over their old professor.

Leaning over him to lift his cloak, Draco moves the clothing around to provide some warmth to the dying man, and places his own cloak behind Snape's head as a pillow. Snape smiles weakly in appreciation.

A single, silvery blue tear builds in the corner of the professor's left eye. Draco watches as it slowly falls, leaving a trail on the man's sallow cheek.

'Take... it...' Though his voice his weak, his words are clear. Hermione pulls out a vial, and presses the cool glass softly to Snape's pale face, catching the tear. Snape turns slightly, his eyes catching Harry's. 'Just like... your mother's... your mother's eyes,' he whispers. A somewhat content expression takes over his features, and his stare turns blank. Draco notices Hermione turn away, busying herself with holding the vial.

He softly closes the man's eyes. If it weren't for the blood everywhere, Snape could almost be sleeping. But he's not. He's dead.

Draco feels a surge of emotion he didn't know he held for his old teacher. Now's not the time for emotion though, he reminds himself. Rising slowly to his feet, he offers Hermione a hand to help her from the floor. She accepts his hand, pulling herself up.

'What can we do with his tear?' asks Ron, eyeing the vial warily.

'It's not his tear, it's some of his memories,' answers Harry sullenly. 'We need a Pensieve.'

..

Shock.

That was the only emotion Hermione was capable of feeling in the moments after watching Snape's memories in the Pensieve. Pure, complete, and utter shock.

Not only had Snape been in love with Harry's mother, but he'd also been working against Voldemort the moment the evil wizard decided to kill Lily Potter.

This was the first time Hermione had ever seen another person's memories through a Pensieve, and it was not an experience she was keen to repeat. Sitting on a bench in the Headmaster's office, Hermione takes a moment to consider the implications of what she'd just witnessed. It had been odd, seeing everything Snape had experienced through his eyes. To see the moments he'd shared with Lily as children; to see the utter devastation he'd felt when they'd been separated into different houses; to watch as Harry's father taunt the boy; to listen to him beg Dumbledore to help him save her; and then to see the moment he found her. The moment he found the love of his life's body crumpled on the floor of her home, dead because she happened to give birth to a baby at the end of July. It was more emotion in such a short period than she could cope with.

Watching Snape's memories through the Pensieve gave Hermione an insight to him, an insight she wasn't sure she wanted. It was difficult to see the life of a man she'd despised for so long, a man who'd made it his job to make her friends' lives a misery, in a way that made her feel pity for him. Living a double life for so long couldn't have been easy.

And whilst Hermione would never, ever condone the abuse and bullying of a child for whatever reason, she understood now why Snape had hated Harry as much as he had. Every time he'd taught the boy, he'd seen the eyes of the woman he loved, in a face that reminded him of a man he'd hated.

Snape had been cruel... but he'd also been brave. And that was what caused Hermione to admit begrudgingly to herself that she felt a sort of respect for the man.

But what was even more concerning than the revelations about Snape was the information that Snape had wanted to share with them in his dying moments. The information that would change this war...

The information that Harry was the seventh Horcrux.

Hermione inhales sharply. She's still unsure how to process the information. Her mind races over every possible way to use the knowledge. But no matter what course the coming battle takes, it all seems to end the same way: with Harry's death.

Placing her head in her hands in defeat, Hermione fights the urge to weep. There must be another way. There must!

'There isn't another way,' says Harry, as if reading Hermione's mind. 'I know it. We all know it. There's only one way this ends.'

'Harry, mate-' begins Ron.

'No! We all know what needs to happen!' Hermione can hear the emotions in Harry's voice. Though he tries to mask his emotions in anger, she can hear the hurt, the betrayal, the fear that he's feeling. 'I need to face Voldemort myself. And I need to die.'

Hermione notices that Draco holds his tongue during the outbreak. She can't imagine how he's feeling. He's just had an uncomfortably close insight into his mentor's life. And now he knows that a boy who'd been his enemy during school needed to take on the wizard whom Draco had followed in the war for a long time. She wonders how he feels. Relief, knowing that there is a way to end the war? Regret, realising how he'd treated someone who'd been raised to die? Sadness, watching Snape's life through a series of tragic memories?

But, as usual, Draco's emotions are clouded behind a cold mask of indifference.

Hermione sighs, but the sound comes out as more of a sob.

She can hear Ron still arguing quietly with Harry about there being another solution. But she knows it herself; there is no other solution.

'Ron, stop. Harry needs to do this.'

The ginger wizard turns his fury to her. 'Are you kidding me? You're gonna let him do this? Let him die?' he challenges angrily.

Despite pooling all of her effort, Hermione kind find it in herself to shout back. 'There's no other way,' she mutters hopelessly.

Harry walks quietly across the room and sits down next to Hermione, placing a friendly arm over her shoulders. Hermione turns her head into his chest, fighting the tears threatening to spill over her eyelids.

'Hermione,' Harry says, and Hermione looks into her friend's eyes. 'I don't want to ask you to do this, but I have to... there's not going to be time to say good bye to everyone before I do this... and they'd probably all try to stop me anyway...' Hermione knows where Harry's request is going, but leaves him to voice his wishes. 'I need you too... umm... I need you to tell them all, for me... tell them I love them... tell Ginny-' his voice breaks slightly, and Hermione knows he's holding back an army of tears himself. 'Tell Ginny I've always loved her, and I'm sorry. Will you do this, for me?'

Hermione nods sadly, the feeling of complete devastation so strong inside her that it nearly cripples her. 'They know anyway... but I'll tell them.' Everything goes silent for a moment longer. 'Is this it, then?'

Harry stands, nodding. 'Unfortunately, it is.'

'We'll come with you-' starts Ron.

'No, no you won't.' Ron looks to interrupt again. 'You two have always been there. Always. But this-... this I need to do alone. Will you respect that... please?'

Though clearly distraught by the idea of allowing his best friend to walk to his death alone, Ron nods. 'I'm gonna miss you, Harry. A lot.' The two friends embrace, and Hermione stands and quietly places her arms around the two. The barrier she'd tried to build against her emotions finally breaks, and tears spill out angrily over her eyelids, streaming down her cheeks. She sobs loudly. She pulls her two friends closer to her. Maybe she can make this hug last forever. Maybe she can pause time right now, and Harry won't have to leave. Maybe-

Harry pulls away from his friends softly, and guides Hermione to Draco. Hermione falls into Draco's arms, which he immediately lifts to hold her. 'Take care of her,' Harry says to Draco.

'I will, Potte-... Harry.'

Without another word, Harry grabs his invisibility cloak and strides out of the room. Strides to meet the wizard who will end his life.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** I don't know about you guys, but I'm an emotion reader and I've been crying whilst writing this chapter! Silly, I know. But what did you all think of it? As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts so please leave a review :)


	24. Chapter 24

Draco watches from a distance as Hermione breaks the news to Harry's friends. He watches as the youngest Weasley shakes her head in anger and denial, tears streaming from her cheeks. He watches as Ron pulls her back as she tries to dart for the door, dart to stop Harry from facing Voldemort.

Draco watches as the Weasley parents, already distraught from the loss of one of their sons, have their hearts broken a little bit more. He watches as Neville Longbottom and some of the other Gryffindors come over to find out what's happening. He watches as their faces pale when they hear the news.

Draco watches as some of the professors try to comfort the younger students, whilst trying to hold back their own emotions. He watches as students he doesn't even know the names of break down in tears at the news.

Draco watches and families and friends comfort each other at the news that Harry Potter is either about to die or dead.

He just watches. Because he can provide no comfort, no words of hope. Draco can't do anything to lift their spirits. Everyone in the room either hates him or fears him. Probably both.

Draco wonders idly whether or not anyone would feel this sad if he died. Whether anyone would break down in heartbroken tears, clinging to their loved ones for strength. Almost certainly not, except perhaps his mother. Would anyone else even shed a tear?

Why would they? He scoffs at himself. He was a terrible person. His bigoted views and feeling of superiority during his years at Hogwarts had made him feel powerful at the time, but now they make him feel weak. He used to stride around the school like he owned the place. And now he feels like an outsider within its walls. He feels lucky that no one's paying him attention. If anyone noticed him skulking in the shadows, they'd probably attack him. 'Death Eater!' they'd scream, as they tried to kill him. Is that all he'd ever be? A Malfoy, an enemy, a Death Eater?

Hermione glances over to him and sends him a weak smile. How could she ever love a man like him? He'd done horrible, terrible things to her and many others. And he'd enjoyed doing it.

Hermione wanders over to him and slides her arms tentatively around his waist. She seems unsure for a moment, but then rests her head on his chest. He gently lifts his arms around her, but the movement feels stiff and alien, despite the familiarity.

'How are you holding up?' she asks, her voice muffled against his clothes.

He almost laughs. 'Your best friend just walked to his death and you're asking me how I am?' He feels her stiffen under his arms and berates himself for his choice of words. 'Hermione, I'm sorry.'

'It's fine,' she says, sniffling. 'Besides, can't get complacent yet.' She stands up straight, wiping her eyes. 'It's Harry's job to make Voldemort a little bit more mortal. It's our job to kill Nagini and then kill Voldemort. We need to get ready.'

The witch turns to leave but Draco grabs her hand and pulls her back. 'Hermione, you can take a moment to mourn. No one will begrudge you that.'

For a moment it looks like Hermione will take Draco up on his words, but then she shakes her head slowly. 'They'll be time for all of that later. We have to win the war first.'

..

Emotions start stifling Hermione: her emotions and those of everyone around her. Everyone was either crying, on the verge of crying, or had puffy red faces from just finishing crying. Her own tears kept bubbling to the surface, but she fights to keep them suppressed. There's still work to be done. They needed a plan of action. It wouldn't be long until Voldemort would want to boast about Harry Potter's death. He'll think he's won. He'll think we'll give up. And that's when we need to strike back.

Maybe he'll let his guard down just enough for someone to take Nagini out. Maybe he'll get complacent.

But of course they then still had to beat the most powerful dark wizard of their time.

She sighs at the futility of the situation. Walking over to Ron, who was cradling the still sobbing Ginny in his arms, she sits down next to them.

'Ron... we need to talk.' Giving him time to gently let Ginny go, Hermione gathers the professors and older students. They all gather in a circle, and Hermione notices Draco hovering at the back. She'd already spread the word amongst most of the Gryffindors that he was not a threat (although most of them were dubious), but he was understandably nervous around the group.

'We all now know about Harry's noble sacrifice,' Hermione begins, giving time for her words to sink in. 'But it's not over yet. For Voldemort to be defeated, we still need to take out Nagini.' Murmurs arose at the words. Most of the gathering seemed confused, but Hermione didn't more details. Explaining Horcruxes would be too lengthy a conversation, and they're running on borrowed time as it is. 'I know some one of you will be confused by this but we don't have time to explain. At any moment, Voldemort is going to announce the news of Harry's death. I'm hoping that during this time, he will let his guard down enough for us to strike. We'll only have one shot, so we'd better not hesitate.'

'How do we kill the snake?' piped up Neville, understanding that this was not going to be as easy as a few spells.

'Well... that's where it gets slightly more difficult... Nagini isn't going to be easy to kill. We have a basilisk fang, which should do the trick, but-'

'Only one?' asks Seamus. Hermione nods sullenly. 'So we're s'posed to do wha' exactly?' he asks in his strong Irish lilt. 'Pass it around the group and 'ope for the best?'

Hermione pauses to think. 'We also know that Fiendfyre works.'

'Well that makes it all better! An uncontrollable dark curse and a singular snake's fang!' exclaims one of the Ravenclaws from the back. Hermione can't see who it is.

'Look, we know it's not much, but it's all we have. Now you can either stand hear and moan about it or you can get ready because this fight is going to happen whether you like it or not.'

The group falls silent for a moment. Then a voice sounds from an unexpected source. 'He'll probably want to recruit you.'

Everyone's heads snap towards Draco, mouths open in shock. Angry murmurs begin to circulate. Hermione steps in before anyone can do anything they'll regret. 'Go on, Draco.'

Gasps echo around the room but Draco continues before his nerve fails him. 'He'll probably want to recruit you. Voldemort is strong by himself, sure, but he relies on numbers to rule. He'll want as many of you to join him as possible... I think that's when we should strike.' Discontent is clear on the faces of those in the group. Hermione is just relieved no one had attacked Draco by this point.

'Why should we trust you?' yells one student.

'Aren't you a Death Eater?' shouts another.

'Why are you even here?'

'We should get him now!'

'No one is going to get him,' says Hermione in a calm tone, effectively silencing the protests. 'Draco no longer follows Voldemort, and his insight will be useful.'

'Since when do you defend a Slytherin?' asks a younger Gryffindor with malice in her tone.

'Since he saved my life,' announces Hermione. Shock circulates the room, lighting up everyone's face. 'I'm not asking you to like Draco. I'm just asking you to trust him. Everyone makes mistakes but it's how you make up for those mistakes that count.' Disgruntled faces show that no one's really happy with the situation, but no one else protests. 'Draco, please continue. What exactly do you have in mind?'

Everyone stays quiet as they listen to Draco's idea. Hermione can't help but feel her hopes rise, just slightly. It's a good plan. A plan they may be able to pull off. As everyone separates to finish final preparations, Hermione wanders over to Draco. 'Thank you,' she says.

'For what?'

'For ignoring everyone and trying to help. It can't be easy to listen to everyone hating you whilst trying to help. So thank you.' Giving in to temptation, she wraps her arms around Draco again. Despite everything that had happened, she still finds a lot of comfort in his hold. She can feel the stares of everyone around them burning into her, but she ignores it. For all she knows, this could be the last time she ever hugs Draco. So she'll make the most of it.

'There words were nothing I didn't deserve. If anything, I'm surprised they didn't do anything else,' says Draco, pressing his lips gently on the top of Hermione's head. His strong arms wrap around her frail form.

'You're not the same person you used to be. If you were, do you think you'd be holding me right now?' asks Hermione. 'You've changed, Draco. They'll see that soon enough.'

'If I live long enough for them to do so,' responds Draco sullenly.

Hermione pulls back and looks into Draco's eyes, her hands gently cupping his cheeks. 'I don't want you thinking like that. You'll survive, Draco.'

'Do you really believe that, Hermione? For the smartest witch of your generation, you can sure be stupid sometimes.' There's no malice in Draco's words, but Hermione flinches anyway. 'No matter who wins today, I lose. If the Dark Lord wins, I'll be killed as a traitor. If we win, I'll be killed as a Death Eater. There's no way I can survive this. I've already had more luck than I deserve with getting you. Bad guys don't get everything.'

Hermione feels a tear trickle down her cheek. 'You're not a bad guy,' she whimpers. 'We're going to win this, and I'll make sure everyone knows the part you played in defeating Voldemort. I'll tell everyone-'

'I know you will, Hermione. But we both know it won't be enough.'

'I won't have you being like this. Not when we're so close to ending this godforsaken war! I've just lost Har-' the words get stuck in her throat, but she pushes on. 'I've just lost Harry, I'm not about to lose you too.'

..

Before Draco has a chance to respond to Hermione's words, the chilling voice of Voldemort sinks through the walls of Hogwarts. 'Harry Potter is dead,' Voldemort's hiss echoes around the room, and everyone cringes away from the words as if they stung. The rest of the Dark Lord's words become background noise as Draco trains his eyes on Hermione. He can see her face twitching as she puts all her effort into not crying. Whilst Voldemort continues to speak, trying to paint Harry as a coward and trying to convince everyone that the war had been won, Draco gives his full attention to his witch. He vows there and then that Voldemort is going to die tonight. Voldemort has caused too much pain to too many people, and it is going to end now.

As Voldemort's words sink away, leaving everyone on the final note to join him outside, Hermione lifts her chin, defiance clear on her face. Most people would crumple after the sort of emotional torment she'd been put through tonight. But not his witch. Not Hermione. Hermione plastered a fierce look on her face and kept fighting. He can't imagine being more in love with her than he is then.

'Okay people. Game time. We all know the plan. Let's do this!' she yells. Everyone rallies to her words, picking themselves up and brushing themselves off.

Everyone filters out of the castle and towards the rallying crowd of Death Eaters in front of them. McGonagall's cries of horror are the first to be heard. The despair and denial of the sound spread like the plague through the crowd. Everyone knew this was going to be the outcome. Everyone knew of Harry's sacrifice. But seeing the boy's crumpled form in Hagrid's large arms was clearly too much.

Draco could hear his aunt's hideous cackle at the pain being caused. It made him hate her just that little bit more.

Voldemort began offering the students mercy. Just as Draco had predicted, Voldemort wanted as many of them to join him as possible. Draco watches as Neville Longbottom, with some brown crumpled thing on his hands, steps forward.

'So what Harry's dead?' he challenges. As rehearsed, the students and professors all protest Neville's words, seemingly shocked by his outburst. 'No, I mean it. People die every day. Yeah, Harry was a great guy, and yes he will be missed. But that doesn't mean we have to give in!' During his speech, Neville slowly leaves the safety of the crowd, drawing closer and closer to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort, equally outraged and amused at the Gryffindor's outburst, allows him to draw closer. Clearly he doesn't see the lone boy as a threat.

From a distance, Draco can't tell what the crumpled brown material that Neville's clutching is, but he knows that buried in Neville's pocket is the Basilisk fang. As planned, Neville draws as close to Voldemort as he can. Nagini waits by his side, hissing at Neville.

With a swift motion, Neville pulls the fang from his pocket and lunches at the snake. Before he can even get within a metre, though, he's knocked back by a spell from Bellatrix's wand.

'That was a mistake, boy,' warns Voldemort, flicking the fang and his wand from Neville's grasp with a twist of his wand. 'Nagini, kill.' The snake dives for the now defenceless Neville, and everyone gasps, waiting for the worst.

The mysterious brown rag at his feet, Neville lunges for it and Draco recognises it as the Sorting Hat. Shock fills everyone as Neville draws a long, silver object from it like a magician at a child's show. With one slick motion, Neville swings the sword and beheads the snake.

Everything goes silent for one long moment, and then all hell breaks lose.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! My laptop broke and it's taken me a while to get it fixed. But here's the next chapter, hope you all like it! Let me know what you think :)


	25. Chapter 25

The joy that soars inside Hermione as she watches Nagini's lifeless head fall to the floor with an audible _thunk_ is masked my her utter confusion as moments later, Harry's corpse springs to life from Hagrid's arms and runs towards the rubble, firing spells towards the even more confused Voldemort.

Noise surrounds her and everyone's moving bodies blur into one colourful motion. She can't make sense of what's happening until she feels a familiar hand in hers.

Ron drags her towards safety whilst she tries to make sense of the world around her. 'Harry-'

'I know,' interrupts Ron, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice.

'Does that mean-'

'I don't know.'

Hermione doesn't know what's happening, and she hates it when she doesn't know something. If Harry's alive, does that mean that Voldemort is still immortal?

But then, why did Voldemort think Harry was dead? Did Harry manage to survive a killing curse from him again? How would that be possible?

All the questions circulating her mind start giving her a headache. A pale hand slides into hers and she looks up into Draco's wild eyes. 'What's happening?' he asks.

'Umm... we don't know.'

'Where's Harry?'

'We don't know...'

'What shall we do?'

Hermione pauses. 'We don't know.'

Hermione looks around. Most of the Death Eaters seemed to scatter after Harry came back from the dead. Those who had decided to stay were battling the remaining students and professors. Some of the fighting seems to have relocated to the Great Hall, where Hermione can hear the sound of spells being yelled and can see the flashes of magic.

She searches for Harry or Voldemort but can see neither.

Draco turns on his heel suddenly and casts a silent protection spell, just as a volley or red and green spells nearly hit the trio. Hermione jumps into action, firing a quick stunning spell at a Death Eater she didn't recognise. The man crumples to the floor as her spell hits him flat in the chest. She notices Draco and Ron take down another three of Voldemort's followers between them. 'We're not safe here,' says Draco, pulling Hermione behind him and protectively and looking for a safer spot.

Ron draws closer to Hermione's side and the three of them run inside the school and Draco pulls Hermione's hand as if to drag her up the stairs but she pulls him back. 'No,' she says, stopping them. 'There's no time to stop and talk this through. More of our friends are dying. I don't know what's going on with Harry but we need to trust him to do what he has to do. Right now we need to help our friends.'

Ron and Draco nod, and the three of them run into the Great Hall.

The mayhem is magnificent, but Hermione only has eyes for one battle raging in the room. Bellatrix Lestrange.

Standing on a table at the far end of the room and cackling like a mad woman, Bellatrix takes on student after student. During the couple of seconds Hermione watches, two young Ravenclaws fall to the evil woman's curses and Ginny steps up to take her on.

Fear for her friend's life fills Hermione and she rushes across the room. She watches as Ginny deflects spell after spell but she has not chance to retaliate and soon falls to the floor in exhaustion. Still only halfway across the room, Hermione yells out in denial, not wanting to watch her friend die. But as she yells, Molly Weasley steps forwards. 'Not my daughter, you bitch.' The Weasley matriarch fires an angry spell at Bellatrix, whose ugly cackle fades. Anger replaces glee on Bellatrix's face and she fires a killing curse back. Molly blocks the retaliation and fires a volley of mean-looking curses at the sadistic witch, who falls to the floor.

Molly raises her wand again but Hermione, who was now standing just a metre from the fight, stops her. 'Molly... please, I need to-'

Molly - gentle, caring, motherly Molly - takes one look at what was probably a deranged and pleading expression on Hermione's face and nods, understanding.

Hermione needs this. Hermione needs to take on Bellatrix. The raven-haired witch picks herself up, a murderous look in her psychotic eyes. Before she has a chance to fight back with the Weasley, her gaze turns to Hermione, standing below her.

She giggles and the sound grates Hermione's ears. 'Oh look! The little Mudblood! Is my dear nephew around anywhere? I wouldn't mind saying hi to him him before I kill him.'

Hermione's blood boils. 'You can away from Draco.' She follows her words with an expelliarmus, which Bellatrix blocks with ease.

'Oooooh, the little Mudblood grew a back bone! Just in time for me to tear it out!' Bellatrix yells a curse Hermione had never heard off, but doesn't doubt for a second that it would cause her spine to be ripped from her body.

Hermione blocks the attack and sends a spell in return. The back and forth continues, neither witch able to land a clear attack on the other.

'Need my nephew to come save you again?' taunts Bellatrix. 'He's not here to stop me this time,' she sneers, her dark lips curling up. 'Come on girlie, let's see how dirty your blood is!'

'Not. This. Time,' grunts Hermione, pushing back. One spell, that's all it takes. One perfectly aimed, nasty curse and Bellatrix stops in her tracks, her skin paling to an unhealthy grey colour. Small cracks start spreading across her body and for once fear becomes apparent in her expression. The witch crumbles... literally. Her body breaks apart and the dust that was once Voldemort's most loyal follower flies away on the soft breeze in the room.

Hermione takes in the aftermath of her actions. She didn't realise she was capable of such a spell. And yet she can' find it in her to be shocked at her actions. Instead, she is proud. Proud to finally have closure for the events that happened in Malfoy Manor so long ago.

However, as the adrenaline that had flooded her body drains away, Hermione finds her legs become weak. She turns but doesn't have to search for long until she spots Draco. Just a few metres away, she stumbles towards him and draws strength from his support. She leans her weight on him and he snakes an arm around her waist. Checking for immediate danger and finding the coast clear, Hermione takes a moment to catch her breath.

'I-' she begins.

'I saw,' interrupts Draco. 'Are you alright?'

Hermione nods. 'That was long overdue.' Without thinking about it, Hermione looks down at her arm, where the word 'Mudblood' still stands out against her pale skin. Draco follows her sight and rubs her arm gently.

'You don't need to worry about that anymore.'

'But it's so ugly,' Hermione says without thinking. She never considered herself the vain type, but the jagged scar on her forearm fills her with disgust. She may have defeated the witch who marred her, but the mark itself would be with her forever.

'Hermione. You are a beautiful woman. And your scars show your strength.' He kisses her forehead softly. 'You are the strongest witch I know... and you're a total bad ass.'

She smiles and pulls herself away, knowing that every second she takes for herself is another second she puts herself and her friends in jeopardy. 'Thanks, Draco,' she whispers softly, turning around and facing the battlefield. 'Let's do this.'

..

Watching Hermione finally kill his sadistic aunt had been an odd experience for Draco. It had been so hard for him not to intervene to help Hermione, but he knew it was something she needed to do. After all the pain the mad witch had caused Hermione... Draco understood why she needed the closure of finishing the witch herself.

He watches now as Hermione heads back into the battle and he follows to do the same himself. He falls back into the familiar pattern of duelling. _Attack. Dodge. Attack. Protect. Attack. Duck._

Duelling was something Draco knew well. Something Draco was good at.

He loses himself to the familiar routine, taking down Death Eater after Death Eater.

All of a sudden, the fighting stops and people start filtering towards the front of the school. He can hear people shouting about something; people on both sides of the war calling people to come outside.

Confused and intrigued, Draco finds Hermione in the crowd and wanders outside to the front of the building. As soon as he rounds the corner and catches a glimpse of the outer battleground, he can see what the fuss is about. Harry and Voldemort are locked in an intense battle. Red meets green as their spells collide spectacularly.

He can see Harry's lips moving but can't hear what he's saying. Whatever it is, though, it's causing the scowl of Voldemort's face to grow grotesquely.

Everyone watches with baited breathe, waiting for the outcome. This is it. Whatever happens in the next few moments will decide the war.

After what seems like a lifetime, Harry takes the upper ground and his spell washes over Voldemort, freezing him in place. Almost delicately, Voldemort's skin softens and weakens until he looks to be made of paper. And then he crumbles. Much like Bellatrix had, but more dramatically. The crumbling pieces of him scatter quickly, and his followers scatter even quicker.

In a matter of moments, only Hogwarts' students and professors - and members of the Order of the Phoenix - stand in the grounds. No one seems to know what to do with themselves to begin with. Bewildered faces scan the crowd, looking for guidance.

The first to move are Hermione and Ron, who both shove their way through the crowd, racing across the stone floor to Harry, who had collapsed to his knees.

Mcgonagall speaks up, directing students to tend to the injured. Everyone starts to disappear back into the castle, separating to perform their assigned tasks.

Draco wanders idly over to the trio, who are wrapped in a tight embrace with each other. He can hear at least two of the group crying. Standing awkwardly a couple of metres away, Draco waits for the three to detach from each other. Eventually, Hermione pulls back from her friends and looks up at Draco, a sad sort of smile on her face. He understands what that smile means; it means she's relieved the war's over. It means she's devastated to lose so many friends. It means she's scared to let her guard down after spending so long on the run. It means she's worried about what's going to happen now. It means she's happy to have Harry back. And it means she doesn't know what to do now.

Hermione gets to her feet and wanders over to Draco. He immediately opens his arms for her and she folds herself into his hold. He takes in her warmth and she rests her head on his chest. He can feel her body begin to shake slightly, and he realises she's crying again. Stroking her back comfortingly, he allows her the chance to get her tears out.

She pulls back slightly and meets his gaze. 'I'm sorry, I know I should be happy I just... it's all so much to take in and...'

Shaking his head gently, Draco says, 'shush, don't worry about it. Let it out.'

She smiles weakly at him again. 'I think I'm done.'

Nodding, Draco brushes the final tear from her cheek. He moves both hands up to cup her face in them. 'I love you,' he says. He'd been so worried about never being able to say that to the witch he loves again that he needed to get it off his chest.

Smiling, Hermione replies, 'I love you, too... so much, Draco.' She leans up and gently presses her lips to his.

Draco exhales contentedly and deepens their kiss, softly twining his tongue with hers. She moans slightly and he pulls her closer, his hands roaming down her body to hold her waist.

An obvious throat-clearing causes the pair to eventually pull apart. Draco reluctantly directs his gaze towards the two Gryffindor boys. Releasing his hold on Hermione's waist, but quickly grabbing her hand to fill the empty space in his grasp, he wanders over to them.

'So... you made it out alive after all.'

Harry nods.

'Any idea how?'

Harry shakes his head slowly.

Draco smiles softly. 'The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?' He manages to pull a quiet laugh out of the dark-haired wizard. 'I don't know how you did it, man... but I'm glad you're alive.'

Harry looks taken aback for a moment, but then he smiles. 'You too, I guess. Although I guess this means I'm going to have to deal with seeing your ferret face around a lot more.'

Draco doesn't take offence at the jest. 'And I guess I'm gonna have to put up with the Dunderhead Duo for a little while longer. At least while this one-' he nudges Hermione fondly, '-decides to keep putting up with me.' His face darkens. 'And if I don't end up in Azkaban.'

'But you fought for us!' protests Ron. 'You may not be my favourite person in the world, but I guess your stubborn loyalty to our cause in the end has made you grow on me a little bit. And besides, you did what was right and you made up for your errors. I'm sure they'll be able to see that.'

'Plus,' adds Harry, smiling, 'I'd like to see them try to take you away from Hermione. Judging by the death lock she's maintaining on your hand right now, I have a feeling she's not going to let you go without a fight.'

Draco nods, smiling. 'Thanks, guys. But still, I did some terrible things... they're not just going to forget that.'

'Well, you'll have the three of us on your side,' states Harry, nodding his head firmly. 'And I'm sure plenty of those inside Hogwarts right now would back you up as well. They all saw you fight for us. They all saw you risk your life for us.'

Draco forces a smile on his face again, but finds it hard to raise his hopes. If he were in the Ministry, he wouldn't let Voldemort's protege, the son of a high ranking Death Eater and someone who'd been involved in many outrageous things in the war walk free. 'Well, let's not worry for now. Nothing we can do at the moment,' says Draco. Nodding towards the school, he adds, 'and I'm sure there are things we can be doing in there to help out.'

Harry and Ron nod in agreement, starting to walk towards the entrance.

Hermione puts her hand in front of Draco as he starts to follow. 'We'll catch up in a moment,' she calls towards the boys, who nod and continue walking away.

Twisting to face him, Hermione rubs a hand gently on his cheek. 'I won't let them take you away from me.'

Draco leans into the touch, closing his eyes. If only he could freeze this moment and live the rest of his life in Hermione's touch.

'I appreciate that... but I need you to promise me something.' Opening his eyes, Draco watches Hermione nod. 'I will almost certainly go to trial for my crimes. And whilst I won't stop any of you saying anything you feel the need to say in my defence... if I end up being sentenced to Azkaban or- or to death-' Hermione gasps but Draco continues, 'if they find my guilty and punish me... I need you to promise me that you won't try to fight. You won't try to stop them and you won't risk putting yourself in danger for me.'

Hermione shakes her head angrily. 'I promise no such thing.'

'Hermione-'

'No! I won't have you talking like this! Don't give up, not now. Not when we've made it so far and stuck through so much.'

'I'm not giving up. I'm still going to fight for my freedom and I'm still going to fight with everything I have to be with you. But at the end of the day, I've committed unspeakable crimes, and I would not blame anyone for wanting to punish me for those crimes. And I will accept whatever is dealt to me... and I need you to as well.'

Her upper lip begins to tremble slightly and Draco watches as she bites down on it. 'I'll try.'

Draco pulls her closer for a moment, and then asks. 'So what now?'

'We keep doing what we've always done. We survive.' She leans up and takes his lips in another passionate kiss. 'And then? Then we _live_.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So... the battle's over!

I need to know what you all think about my changes to Bellatrix's death. Molly Weasley is a bad ass and I love how she stands up to Bellatrix in the books and films, but I felt like Hermione taking over to finish the fight was something I needed to write into this Fanfiction. Hopefully you guys don't think I took it away from Molly too much, because I love Molly's character.

I'll try to update soon so you can all find out what happens to Draco now the war's over :)


	26. Chapter 26

Two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, as people had started naming the momentous event, Hermione is sat on the sofa at the Burrow, holding a now cold cup of tea that Molly had tried to get her to drink.

Her heart is still hurting. Worry is still plaguing her every waking moment. And her every sleeping moments as well.

The Ministry hadn't even given Draco two days after the battle before taking him into custody. Him, Hermione, Harry and Ron had all stayed behind to help with repairs to Hogwarts. They'd been rebuilding Gryffindor Tower when three Ministry Aurors had showed up, wants out and pointed at Draco. He hadn't made a fuss when they'd taken him, but Hermione certainly had. She'd shouted every curse word she knew at the three Aurors - two men and a woman - but it hadn't made a difference. They'd still taken him, informing her that the trial would be in a couple of weeks.

After that McGonagall had insisted that Hermione, Harry and Ron return home rather than stay to help with the repairs. They'd protested, of course, but the stern professor won in the end.

Of course, that led to a new problem entirely: Hermione had no home to go to. Before the war fell into full swing, she'd obliviated her parents' memories of her and they'd moved to Australia. She had no idea where they were or whether there was a way to return their memories.

Ron had soon seen to the problem, inviting her to stay at the Burrow indefinitely until she found somewhere to go. Harry was staying there as well, obviously, and the two boys had provided comfort to her. But they'd had their own pain to deal with as well. Fred had died during the battle. George had fallen into a deep depression at the loss of his twin brother and spent most of the time locked away in his room, silent. The rest of the Weasleys tried to put on a brave face but sorrow was written deep in their eyes. A funeral was being arranged at Hogwarts for all of the fallen, but the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and a few of Fred's close friends had attended their own memorial service for the man last week. It had been a simple event. George had momentarily ended his solitary confinement for the day, though he barely spoke a word to anyone.

Ginny and Harry had grown even closer, able to draw some comfort from each others' presence. They barely spent time apart.

Hermione spent most of her days either preparing for Draco's trial or helping the Weasleys in any way she could, be it in maintaining the house or trying to get through to George, or even de-gnoming their garden, which had been this morning's task.

Sitting on the sofa with her cold tea, Hermione re-reads the words printed on the Ministry letter in front of her.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _We write to inform you of the upcoming trial or Mr Draco Malfoy, which will take place on 20th May 1998 at precisely 13:00._ _The trial will take place in front of the Wizengamot and the Minister of Magic, Mr Kingsley Shacklebolt, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic._

 _The crimes for which he is being trialled include, but are not limited to: taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters from 1996 to present;_ _assisting Death Eaters in the infiltration of Hogwarts on 30th June 1997; assassination attempt on the life of Professor Albus Dumbledore on 30th June 1997; participation in the murder of Professor Charity Burbage; torturing fellow Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle with use of an Unforgivable Curse._

 _Your presence has been requested by Mr Draco Malfoy to speak on his behalf. Please arrive at Courtroom 2 no later than 12:30 on 20th May 1998._

 _Kind regards,_

 _Alivoria Mangora, Secretary in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

The one silver lining in the letter is that Kingsley Shacklebolt will be at the trial. Hermione has always found him to be a reasonable and fair man, and his involvement in the Battle of Hogwarts meant that he almost certainly witnessed Draco fighting on their side. Of course, there are still the other 50 or so members of the Wizengamot to convince, the majority of whom were not at the battle.

Harry and Ron are also going to attend the trial, and Hermione expects that McGonagall will have been contacted as a witness as well. Molly and Ginny will be there as moral support. Hermione wonders who the witnesses for the listed crimes will be. She expects that at least one of the captured Death Eaters will have volunteered information to help incriminate Draco in exchange for reduced sentences.

As far as Hermione is aware, the Aurors had recaptured a large amount of the Death Eaters who'd fled the battle after Voldemort's demise. Trials had been taking place every day since the battle, many of the accused had been sentenced to life in Azkaban. Others - the more senior Death Eaters - had been sentenced to the the Dementor's Kiss. Hermione heard that Amycus Carrow, who had tortured students at Hogwarts in the lead up to the battle, posing as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and Augustus Rookwood, who had spied for Voldemort in the Ministry and had already broken out of Azkaban twice, had both been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss.

Fear pools in Hermione's stomach every time she considers the possibility of Draco facing such a fate. She despairs over the possibility that she won't be able to convince the Wizengamot of his rehabilitation and redemption in the war.

She sips at her tea but immediately places the mug down, her face scrunching in distaste at the uncomfortably cold beverage.

Ron walks into the room then and, noticing her on the sofa, sits down opposite her. A concerned look covers his features.

'It'll be alright,' he says. 'Kingsley will be there. He's the Minister for Magic; he has the power to override the rest of the Wizengamot if they find Malfoy guilty.'

Hermione sighs, looking down. 'But that's the thing, Ron. Draco _is_ guilty. At least of those crimes listed in the letter. Who would respect a Minster who would willingly overrule the decision of the Wizengamot in defence of a known Death Eater?'

'It doesn't matter, anyone who's worth having in the Ministry wouldn't allow such a simple thing to affect their trust in the man. He's a great leader. Draco will be fine.'

Feeling the tears pooling in her eyes, Hermione focuses her attention on watching the twiddling of her thumbs.

'Besides, you'll be there. I feel sorry for the witch or wizard that has to fight with you over this. You're the smartest witch I know. If anyone could convince a council of prejudiced twats that Malfoy's a changed man, it's you. And Harry and I will be there. They can't bloody well argue with the Boy-Who-Lived, the man that just won them the war! Plus, I'm sure I'll win over the ladies with my dashing looks and charming personality, so they'll all be on our side,' he assures her with his familiar lop-sided grin. Despite herself, Hermione smiles slightly. 'Come here,' Ron bids, opening his arms wide.

Pushing herself off the couch, Hermione crosses the small space between herself and her friend, and folds herself in his arms. She pulls calmness from his familiar warmth and scent.

'Thanks, Ron.'

'No problem, Mione.'

..

Being locked up is not a situation that Draco is comfortable with. He wonders how his father possibly managed to maintain his sanity was locked in Azkaban. Although, it could be argued that he didn't keep his sanity at all.

Draco's holding cell is small and simple; both adjectives that he's not used to applying to his living arrangements.

Since being collected by the Aurors whilst helping to rebuild Hogwarts just over two weeks ago, Draco had had little to occupy his time. His wand had been confiscated, naturally, and it wasn't like there was a flat screen TV built into his cell.

He spoke to the guards when he could, although most either ignored him or threatened to hurt him if he didn't shut up. One or two took sympathy on him and slipped him reading material when they could. Nothing to properly fulfil the hours of complete boredom that he was forced to endure, though.

He wonders idly whether, following the outcome of his trial lat today, he would be begging for this cell again; whether he'd be longing for the endless days of nothingness within these walls. He could certainly face a worse future, depending on the outcome.

Draco had spent most of this time thinking about Hermione. Oh, what he wouldn't do to have her wrapped in his arms again.

They hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. Neither had expected the Ministry to catch up with them so soon. They thought they'd have a little breathing time before he was imprisoned. How naive they'd been.

He knows Hermione will be at the trial later, and that knowledge fills him with a little joy. He can't wait to see her face, even covered with worry as it will most likely be. Gryffindor's Princess is far too compassionate for her own good. He worries about how she will have been coping over the past couple of weeks. He's sure that the Weasleys will have taken her in and tried their best to care for her. But they have their own troubles to be dealing with. Knowing that one of the Weasley twins was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts fills Draco with guilt. Here he is, alive and well, and worrying about his own fate. Many innocent, kind witches and wizards died fighting the people that Draco had supported, not so long ago. Because, despite it feeling like a whole lifetime between Death Eater Draco, who'd revelled in the misery of those he deemed 'unpure', and the Draco perched on this bed now, it was only a few months.

Hearing footsteps outside his cell, Draco risks asking, 'could I possibly have the time, please?'

The guard steps into view, and Draco is relieved to see it's Jeremy, a guard who was relatively nice towards Draco. The wizard stops in front of Draco's cell and checks his watch. 'Quarter-to-twelve,' the man replies. 'Someone will be here to collect you for the trial at quarter-past.'

Draco nods his thanks, and the man continues on down the hallway.

Half an hour until he leaves his cell, never to return again. Because, one way or another, Draco is not coming back to this cell tonight. He shifts his weight, and begins tapping his fingers against his knee restlessly. Only twenty-nine minutes and so many seconds to go.

What seems like hours later, a guard unlocks his cell. He looks up, hoping to see Jeremy again, but is disappointed to recognise the face of a stern-looking blonde witch, whose name he does not know. This one doesn't threaten him, but doesn't speak to him either, and always stares at him with a murderous glare. The same glare she's wearing now, in fact.

'Place your wrists out in front of you and together,' she commands. Draco obliges, and she immediately casts a binding spell, securing his wrists together. 'Follow me and don't dawdle.'

Draco steps out of his cell behind the witch, and notices another guard behind him, ensuring no escape. Not that Draco would attempt such a thing; he's here to prove he's worth giving a second chance to. Following the blonde into a brightly lit lift, Draco has to resist the urge to shield his eyes. The cells were dimly lit, to say the least, so the contrast is blinding.

Once the second guard is on his other side in the lift, the machine whirrs to life, pulling them up a few floors until they are on the right floor for Courtroom 2. The witch's heels click loudly on the marble floor as she leads him into a large room, where members of the Wizengamot were beginning to fill in. His trial doesn't start until one o'clock, and he wonders when Hermione is due to show up. Knowing his bushy-haired witch, she'll be here already, perfectly prepared to fight for him. He smiles slightly at the thought.

As if hearing her name in his thoughts, Hermione steps into the room not moments after Draco. He watches her eyes flick wildly around the room until they settle on him, and her lips turn up in a brave smile.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and the Weasley mother - who for the life of him, Draco can't remember what her name is - follow Hermione into the room. Ginny and her mother head towards a section of the benches set up for people to watch from, whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione follow a Ministry official to the witness and defence section.

A few minutes later, he hears Kingsley Shacklebolt's booming voice fill the room. 'As we are all in attendance, let us begin.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** There you go, another chapter! Hope you all liked it.

Things are getting tense! What will happen to Draco? I'll try to update soon to let you know.

As always, please leave a review :)


	27. Chapter 27

Hermione patiently waits as the formalities of the trial are addressed: Kingsley Shacklebolt calls everyone to attention and introduces Draco, listing the crimes he is being trialled for. A shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature of the large courtroom shudders through her body.

Bound magically to a chair the way he is, Draco looks helpless. She will not let him be taken from her.

'Mr Malfoy,' begins Kingsley after listing the charges against Draco, 'How do you plead for the following crimes: 'taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters from 1996 to present?'

Draco seems to consider the question for a moment before responding, 'innocent.'

An explosion of chatter and outrage sounds from the majority of the Wizengamot. One voice stands above the rest, though it's source is unknown. 'Objection! If you simply lift his sleeve, you'll see the evidence of his guilt to this crime!'

Kingsley's booming voice quickly quietens the uproar. 'You'll have your time to present your case later, Darius.'

Darius - who Hermione quickly locates in the crowd by his reddening face - retakes his seat, fury in his deep-set eyes.

'Continuing on. Mr Malfoy, how do you plead to the crime of assisting Death Eaters in the infiltration of Hogwarts on 30th June 1997?'

Draco pauses. 'Guilty.'

Murmurs greet Draco's confession again, though without the ferocity of before.

'Attempting to assassinate Professor Albus Dumbledore on on 30th June 1997?'

'Innocent.'

'Participation in the murder and torture of Professor Charity Burbage, precise date unknown?'

'Innocent.'

'Participation in the torture of fellow Death Eater Thorfinne Rowle with use of an Unforgivable Curse?'

Draco looks down, quietly answering, 'guilty.'

Her lover looks so pained in his confession that Hermione's heart aches, sending little shooting pains through her chest. Hearing his confession to the use of an Unforgivable Curse whilst torturing someone comes as little surprise to Hermione, though the confirmation of the activities he performed whilst under Voldemort's sway still hurt her. She knows he's not the same man he was, but still, to know what he's capable of is slightly scary. The guilt written on his face is pure and honest, though. Hermione is slightly surprised at how openly Draco is presenting his emotions to the crowd of witches and wizards gathered, finding it strange not to see the usual cold mask hiding his feelings.

'Thank you,' states Kingsley, addressing Draco. 'Darius Broomsley, you may now begin the prosecution.'

The red-faced man from earlier steps up from his seat and walks pompously to the centre of the room, turning to face the gathered people. 'Firstly, to address the first of Draco Malfoy's _long list_ of crimes, he has pleaded innocent to the crime of taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters. If you will direct your attention to his left forearm, you will see the evidence of his dishonesty in this situation.' Darius casts a quick spell, rolling Draco's left sleeve up to reveal the slowly fading Dark Mark.

Hermione cringes away from the sight involuntarily. The fingers of her right hand move against their will to stroke the place on her left arm where her own mark sits: the word 'Mudblood', which Bellatrix carved into her skin during their time in Malfoy Manor. That was Hermione's first real interaction with Draco during the war. He'd saved her that day. He'd stopped his aunt from torturing and possibly killing Hermione. It was the beginning of his redemption, in her eyes, although Draco may not have rejected his family's dark practices straight away.

Murmurs of agreement resound from the members of the Wizengamot.

'May I speak in my defence?' asks Draco politely, directing his question at the Minister for Magic rather than the self-important Darius Broomsley.

'Darius, have you finished presenting your evidence for this accusation?' Darius looks like he's going to protest Draco's attempts to defend himself, but nods his head grudgingly. 'Then yes, Mr Malfoy, you may begin your defence for this crime.'

'Thank you, Minister.' Draco glares at Darius. 'I did not plead innocent to taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters-'

'-Yes you did!' interrupts the wizard who Hermione is beginning to hate as much as Dolores Umbridge.

'No, no I didn't,' responds Draco. Hermione's eyebrows scrunch together as she tries to follow Draco's train of thought. 'I was accused of taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters from 1996 _to present_.' He pauses to allow his point to sink in. 'I will admit to taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters in 1996. However, I will adamantly maintain that I do not presently consider myself a Death Eater. I officially rejected that title and the practices of the Dark Lord earlier this year. Whilst the Dark Mark remains on my arm presently, you will notice it has faded somewhat.' Hermione grins at Draco's clever manipulation of the wording used against him. He's Slytherin through and through.

Kingsley tries to hide his own smile whilst Darius seems to have to hold himself back, steam practically coming out of his ears. 'You make a fair argument, Mr Malfoy.' He turns to Darius, 'Darius, do you have any evidence that Draco should still be considered a Death Eater?' Darius seems to have a few things to say about Draco's argument, but shakes his head grudgingly instead. Kingsley turns to the Wizengamot. 'Draco Malfoy pleads innocent to this accusation and no evidence has presented to the contrary. Unless anyone protests, he will be cleared of this charge.' A few angry grumbles meet the Minister's announcement, but no one openly defies the proclamation. Hermione can't stop the beam that takes over her face.

'Minister, I do not believe the charges should be dropped entirely. Mr Malfoy has confessed to taking the Dark Mark and joining the Death Eaters in 1996. Even if he has since _changed his mind,_ ' Darius says, glaring at Draco, 'he has still committed a crime and this should not be ignored simply because the man claims to have changed.'

'Mr Broomsley, I'm sure the Wizengamot will take into consideration the fact that Mr Malfoy has confessed to joining the Death Eaters and taking the Dark Mark, but I hardly see the need to extend the trial to include a crime that Mr Malfoy has readily confessed to. So, unless there are any objections, I suggest you move on to the next accusation.'

Darius Broomsley's red face loses some of it's colour and anger at the understanding Draco's time serving as a Death Eater will not be ignored, and Hermione's stomach drops slightly. Just when she thought they were getting ahead, Draco stands further trial. Of course, Kingsley is only doing his job and Hermione understands he would have been unable to drop the charge completely. Saving Draco from having to extend the already lengthy trial was the best Kingsley could do.

Darius straightens his robes and runs a chubby hand across his slicked-back hair. 'Mr Malfoy, you have already pleaded guilty to the crime of assisting Death Eaters in the infiltration of Hogwarts on 30th June 1997. I'm assuming you will be punished accordingly for this,' he states, shooting a glare at the Minister before continuing, 'as such, I don't feel it necessary to interrogate you further on this crime. However, you have pleaded innocent to staging an assassination attempt on the life of Albus Dumbledore on 30th June 1997. However, we have witness statements that you were at the scene of the crime, seen pointing your wand at Albus moments before he was attacked by the killing curse and flung from the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts. We understand the person to cast this spell was Severus Snape, but evidence suggests this was only because your own attempt failed. Following you admitting to aiding the Death Eaters in infiltrating the school earlier that same night, it leads to conclude that you made your own attempt on Albus Dumbledore's life before Professor Snape finished the task for you. Do you have any evidence in your defence?'

Draco looks like he's about to speak before Harry stands up. Hermione shoots her friend a confused look. 'I would like to speak in Malfoy's defence.'

Baffled faces greet Harry's statement, and Darius' mouth flutters open a shut a few times before he finally says. 'Mr Malfoy, would you like to call Harry Potter as a witness?'

Draco's confusion is hidden behind a mask of indifference. 'Yes.'

Harry steps into the centre of the room, looking towards the Wizengamot. 'I can confirm Draco Malfoy made no attempt on Dumbledore's life on 30th June 1997. I was with Dumbledore moments prior to event and saw the whole thing. Draco disarmed Dumbledore but did not try to kill him. He... he couldn't kill him. He didn't want to. Severus Snape arrived and fired the Killing Curse at Dumbledore. Draco did not attack Dumbledore.' Silence follows Harry's statement.

Darius sends a murderous gaze towards Harry. 'Just because another man beat Draco to the act, doesn't mean that he did not plot to kill Albus Dumbledore.'

'Once again Mr Broomsley, that is not what I am on trial for,' interrupts Draco. 'I was not accused of plotting to kill Dumbledore, I was accused with attempting to assassinate him on 30th June 1997.'

Darius points a podgey finger in Draco's face. 'Do not think for one minute, boy, that you're going to get out of a Dementor's Kiss just because of the wording used to accuse you. I will take you to a hundred trials if necessary to make sure we finally word your crimes correctly, you Death Eater scum.'

Hermione does not doubt for one moment that Draco would have sent a fist flying towards the pretentious wizard's face had he not been magically bound to the chair. It takes some strong willpower not to jump down from her current seat and slap the man herself.

Kingsley's stern voice fills the spacious room. 'Mr Broomsley. May I remind you that this is to be a fair trial and if you cannot keep your personal opinions separate from this case then I will have to ask you to leave the courtroom. Can I trust that you'll complete the rest of this trial in an unbiased fashion?' The authority in the Minister's deep voice is unquestionable.

Hermione could practically hear Darius' teeth grinding from across the courtroom. 'Yes,' he spits out, making very little effort to hide his anger.

'Then I believe it fair to clear Mr Malfoy of this charge, unless anyone is questioning the authenticity of Mr Potter's testimony?' Once again, no one openly objects to Kingsley's ruling. 'Right then, Mr Broomsley, do you have any evidence to present against Draco's plead of innocence to the crime of participating in the murder and torture of Professor Charity Burbage?'

'No, but I would like to question Mr Malfoy on the crime.' Kingsley nods his head for the man to continue. 'Draco Malfoy. Were you aware that Miss Charity Burbage was being kept prisoner in Malfoy Manor whilst you were living there?'

'Yes,' answers Draco plainly.

'And did you witness her being tortured?'

'Yes.'

'Did you cast any spells at Miss Burbage or physically harm her in any way?'

'No.'

'Could you describe the way in which you witnessed her being tortured?'

Draco sighs. 'Professor Burbage was captured by Death Eaters in 1997 on the orders of Voldemort for her views on Muggles. She believed them not to be so different from witches and wizards and encouraged relationships between Muggles and magic folk. She was kept suspended above a table whist a meeting took place. She was then fed to Voldemort's snake, Nagini.' Horrified gasps meet Draco's description and Hermione suppresses a shudder at the mental image. Hermione had taken Professor Burbage's classes in Third Year and had found the teacher to be a lovely woman who had provided some comfort towards Hermione during the year she'd begun to fully realise the discrimination against Muggle-borns. She knew that the Professor died on Voldemort's orders but had not previously heard the methods of her murder.

'Did you make any attempt to prevent this torture of murder?' asks Darius, bringing Hermione's attention back to the present.

'No. Did you?' snarks Draco.

Darius' whole body visibly shakes. 'I did not have the ability to. You, however, could have interrupted the torture at any time.'

'And if I did, we wouldn't be having this trial right now. You know why? Because I would have been subjected to a much worse fate that Professor Burbage had the Dark Lord doubted my loyalty to any degree. But, of course, that's what you'd prefer, isn't it? You'd give anything to see my dead right now, I suspect. I wonder why that is? I don't recall doing anything to you.'

Darius seems about to yell at Draco again before Kingsley interrupts. 'Is that the end of your line of questioning, Mr Broomsley?'

'Yes,' answers Darius in annoyance.

'In which case, I suggest you proceed to the next accusation.'

'Yes, Minister.' Darius seems to take a moment to collect himself. 'Draco Malfoy has pleaded guilty to the use of an Unforgivable Curse whilst torturing a fellow Death Eater, which is a crime punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban unless there is sufficient evidence to suggest you the caster did so under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Mr Malfoy, were you under the influence of the Imperius Curse whilst torturing Thorfinne Rowle?'

'No,' mutters Draco quietly.

'Well then, I end my line of questioning.'

'Mr Malfoy, it is now your time to present your defence. Would you like to call upon a witness?' asks Kingsley, motioning towards where Hermione, Ron and Harry are sitting.

'Yes. I would like to call upon Hermione Granger to explain, from her point of view, the changes in my opinions and actions.'

Hermione flinches when she hears her own name and feels her nerves falter slightly. Draco is relying on her to convince the witches and wizards here - most of whom are naturally prejudiced against him already - that he deserves a second chance. No pressure, right?

She takes a deep breath and steps into the centre of the room, feeling the weight of everyone's stares burning into her. Her eyes seek out the only gaze she wants on her, though, and she smiles timidly as her chocolate orbs meet Draco's icy grey ones.

'Hi, my name is Hermione Granger and I can testify for the changes Draco Malfoy claims to have undergone in the past few months.' She looks to Kingsley for guidance and he nods to her encouragingly. She takes another deep breath, determined not to let the pressure of the situation cause her to falter. 'Mr Broomsley, one of your arguments to Draco's guilt was the fact that he did not make any attempt to halt the torture of Professor Burbage. Whilst this may be true, Draco did halt my own torture.' Shocked expressions and exclamations circle throughout the room. 'I, along with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, was captured and taken to Malfoy Manor earlier this year. I'm not sure of the exact date. Whilst in Malfoy Manor, I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, both magically and physically. She tortured me with the Cruciatus Curse and carved into me with a cursed dagger.' To emphasise her words, Hermione bravely lifts her left sleeve, presenting the ugly scar to the people gathered. As expected, everyone inhales sharply. 'Despite the risk it posed to himself and despite my blood status, Draco stopped his aunt from torturing me further, allowing Harry and Ron the time to escape their own imprisonment and ultimately letting us escape. This was prior to him formally renouncing his status as a Death Eater and was done at great threat to himself.'

Hermione allows time for her words to sink in before continuing. 'Following this event, Draco then saved my life for a second time. During a fight in Gringotts bank, Draco threw himself in front of a curse fired by his father that would have hit me had he not intervened. The spell would most likely have killed me had Draco not saved me. That is twice that Draco saved my life whilst still officially following the Dark Lord. So, whilst you will argue that Draco took the Dark Mark and became a Death Eater, I would argue that Draco had reservations from the beginning.'

Darius takes Hermione's momentary pause to interrupt. 'So are you saying that because he saved one person, it excuses all of the crimes he's committed?'

'No, Mr Broomsley, that is not what I'm saying. I'm saying that whist Draco followed Voldemort, he did not do so entirely. He was tasked with killing Dumbledore but was unable to do so. Not due to a lack of ability, but due to a lack of conviction. Let me ask you something, Mr Broomsley. How long have you worked at the Ministry for?

Darius, seemingly confused by Hermione's line of enquiry, responds, 'about ten years.'

'I see,' responds Hermione. 'I assume that, within those ten years, you encountered Lucius Malfoy on multiple occasions?'

'Yes, I did,' he replies, 'but I don't see what-'

'-would you describe Lucius Malfoy as an overbearing and blood-prejudiced man?'

Darius pauses. 'Yes, yes I would.'

'And do you think that being a son of such a man would have some influence on how you behave? Do you agree that Draco it is likely Draco was pressured into becoming a Death Eater?'

'I suppose it's likely, yes. Not that that excuses it.'

'Draco was only sixteen when he was coerced into taking the Dark Mark. Can any of us say with true conviction that we would be strong enough to defy the strong will of our parents at such a young age? If we were raised in the conditions that Draco was raised, can we honestly say we would follow a different path?'

'Are you inferring that we would follow the Dark Lord, Miss Granger?' asks Darius, offence on his face. 'Because I can assure you that no matter the situation of my upbringing, I would never take the Dark Mark.'

'Draco was indoctrinated from an early age to think a certain way about blood status. As with all young children, he desired nothing more than to grow up just like his parents and to please them. Unfortunately, this lead to some misinformed opinions. As soon as Draco was taken away from this indoctrination, he developed his own opinions and strayed away from the Dark Lord. He fought for us in the Battle of Hogwarts. He helped _us_ win. I wonder how many people in this room can say they fought against the Death Eaters face to face? Because Draco did. I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for Draco. Maybe none of us would be. Draco made mistakes, big ones, and he hurt people. But when it came down to it, he chose the right side and he fought for it harder than he ever fought for the Dark Lord. So you can all sit up there on your high horses and judge him for decisions he made in situations that none of us could ever imagine being in. I was on the opposite end of Draco's blood-prejudice more than any of you and I can forgive him, why can't you? Why are you so determined to see a good man pay for actions he's already paid for tenfold? When he helped me, he was tortured by the man he followed. He had to abandon his family and everything he'd ever known. None of us had to make that sacrifice. So I hope, when it comes down to you making your decision, you actually think about my words. Don't decide based on what you thought you knew before coming into this trial, decide based on what you've heard today.'

Hermione takes a few deep breaths after her speech, feeling adrenaline run through her veins.

Silence echoes around the room. Kingsley is the first to interrupt the quiet. 'Thank you, Miss Granger.' Hermione blushes and nods, retaking her seat.

Following her testimony, Ron and Harry make small speeches about their own views on Draco's changing beliefs and repeat Hermione's sentiment about giving him a second chance.

Kingsley thanks the two men and turns to Draco one final time. 'Draco, now's your chance to speak for yourself. Do you have anything to say?'

Draco looks up at Hermione and smiles. 'Not much that Hermione hasn't already covered.' He sighs and looks momentarily forlorn. 'I wasn't a good person, I know that. I'm not going to say that I was secretly plotting against Voldemort from the offset. I was a stupid young boy who idolised a horrible father. I was raised with beliefs that I now know were wrong but it's hard to see the truth when you're drowning in lies. I was raised to follow the Dark Lord. My father was one of his men and I never even considered defying my father. None of you came face to face with the Dark Lord. He's scary, I'll tell you that.' A few chuckles meet his statement. 'I've never known fear like I felt in his presence. He tortured me to give me character and forced me to torture others to show my loyalty.' Draco pauses, clearly torn. 'I was one of the lucky ones. I was taken away from that life and given a second chance by three people who had no reason to give me one. Now I'm asking you to do the same but... but I understand if you can't.' Draco looks down and Hermione feels a shooting pain in her heart. All she wants to do is run down there and wrap him in a tight embrace.

'Thank you, Draco. Members of the Wizengamot... it is time to make your decisions.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Well, here you go! This chapter's longer than the others and I hope it didn't drag on too long for some of you. I know it was a mostly dialogue-based chapter but I didn't want to skip past Draco defending himself and just come to a decision on whether or not he will be sentenced as I think it's important that we understand how Draco felt about the whole situation. I'll try to make the next chapter more exciting!

Please leave your reviews so I know what you think :)


	28. Chapter 28

They say that breathing is an instinct that starts as soon as the baby leaves the womb. If you think about, no one teaches a baby how to breathe. Babies just... know. And breathing is then a process that continues without a conscious decision for the remainder of your life. But right now, Draco's lungs aren't drawing oxygen into his body; breathing seems like a distant memory. Air hovers in his throat, his heart beating wildly.

Hours seem to pass as he's stuck in this moment, waiting for the decision that will influence the rest of his life. Guilty? Not guilty?

His eyes dart wildly around the room, weighing the emotions on every member of the Wizengamot's faces. Being a Slytherin, identifying people's thoughts and feelings was something he'd learnt from a young age. But, as with his breathing, it seems to be a skill that is failing him right now. He believes it to be failing him because he seems to be seeing sympathy on some of the witches and wizards' faces. Sympathy? For him?

He cringes inwardly. He knows he doesn't deserve sympathy.

'All of those who find Mr Malfoy guilty, please rise.' Unsurprisingly, Darius Broomsley, followed by many others of the gathered witches and wizards, rise to their feet. However, many of the participants also remain seating.

A quick tally is taken and then those who find him innocent are asked to rise.

'That's twenty-four for guilty and eighteen for not guilty, Minister,' announces a small witch with an even smaller voice at Kingsley's side. Her glasses are far to large for her thin face.

'So eight of you have declined to vote. May you now please rise.' Three wizards and five witches rise from their seats tentatively, looking timidly around at the angry and confused faces of their peers. 'I would like to understand why you have abstained from voting on the outcome of Mr Malfoy's trial?' asks Kingsley, directing his question at those standing.

The largest of the three men is the first to speak. 'I speak only for myself when I say this, but I feel that Mr Malfoy's case is not as clear-cut as guilty or not guilty, Minister. Mr Malfoy has been charged for several crimes, several of which he has not been proven guilty for, but he has openly admitted to some of the charges. I do not believe him to be innocent, and therefore do not think it fair that he walk away from this trial without any punishment. Saying that, I also don't believe he should face the kind of punishment that may be placed upon him should the trial be concluded with a guilty verdict. I believe some middle-ground should be available here.'

Nodding from the other seven standing magical folk show that they concur.

'Interesting point.' Draco tries to tamper down the hope fluttering in his chest.

'Minister, if I may-'

'-Yes, Mr Broomsley?' The hope in his chest deflates promptly. This can't be good.

'Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe that the majority vote is taken within these proceedings? If my maths is correct, twenty-four votes to guilty is a majority over eighteen votes to not guilty.'

Kingsley Shacklebolt seems to hold back a tut of annoyance. 'I'm sure it comes to no surprise that your maths is correct in this circumstance, Darius. However, we currently have eight undecided members who have proposed an alternative sentence. As Minister of Magic, I'm choosing to hear there proposal out. Do you have any complaints with this?'

Darius clearly has some complaints with this, but keeps his mouth shut, retaking his seat.

'Thank you,' says Kingsley, a hint of smugness in his deep voice. 'Aldar Mavins. You have suggested an alternative vote. A half-guilty, if you will. What would your proposed punishment for said sentence involve?'

Aldar Mavins, the larger man of the three non-voters seems slightly taken aback at such a question. 'I really don't think it's my place to say,' he admits.

'Well, for the purpose of this trial, I would like to hear your thoughts, if you will.'

Aldar nods slowly, thinking. 'Well, if it were up to me, I believe that imprisonment in Azkaban would be too harsh. The boy has clearly changed, and, in my eyes, he's already gone some way into trying to make up for his mistakes. I don't think that sending someone who fought for us in the Battle of Hogwarts to Azkaban would be a just thing to do. In terms of punishment for his crimes, I believe a form of community service - a Muggle convention in which convicts perform a variety of tasks to benefit the community - may be a start. Wasn't Mr Malfoy in the process of helping to rebuild Hogwarts when he was taken into custody?'

'Yes, he was,' answers Kingsley.

'Well I think a certain amount of hours spent helping the remaining work would be a start... I also believe a fine should be imposed, the funds from which could be used to help those affected by the war.' Murmurs of agreement resound around the room. 'Going forwards, I think regular meetings with someone from the Ministry to make sure he is not straying back to his former ways would be a good idea. I think it's quite clear that he regrets his previous actions more than anything... I think he deserves a second chance.'

Silence follows the wizard's proclamation.

'Community service?' Everyone's eyes shoot to Darius, who's voice rises with every word. 'A fine? Regular appointments with a Ministry official? Are you serious? This man is a murderous, evil piece of scum who would be lucky if he got to spend the remainder of his days in Azkaban with his soul intact.' Shocked gasps greet the statement.

'What's your problem?' demands Hermione, who Draco watches as she stands up, eyes drilling holes into Darius. 'You know nothing about Draco! How dare you make such disgusting accusations and insults towards him?'

'What's my problem, you ask?' yells Darius, incredulous. 'My problem is that I'm watching one of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named's top recruits potentially walking free! Just because he managed to weasel his way into your pants and you've decided that he's hot enough to be worthy of your forgiveness doesn't mean he's worthy of everyone else's!'

Hermione's cheeks turn a shade of red similar to that of Ron's hair. Ron and Harry stand up beside their friend, reaching for their wands subtly. 'How dare you! How _dare_ you!' she screams, her hair flying wildly around her face.

'Mr Broomsley, I have heard quite enough of your opinions on this matter,' interrupts Kingsley, who seems quite aware of the duel about to break out in the courtroom.

'I'm sure you have, _Minister._ You'd love to see him walk free, wouldn't you?'

'Mr Broomsley, that is it. You are officially being removed from this trial. The case you provided will be taken into consideration, but your further input is no longer required and your vote is being discounted. Now, please kindly remove yourself from my courtroom. Right. Now.' Kingsley's tone suggests that any further argument would be foolish.

But apparently Darius is not only an angry man, but he is also a foolish man. 'My son was murdered by these Death Eaters! My little boy! Why? Because his mother was a Muggle! For all I know, this boy, this _snake_ , standing in front of me right now could have been one of those involved in the murder! And you expect me to stand by quietly as he gets released! Just because he's changed? Just because he was young and made mistakes? My son was young and he made no mistakes and he's dead! And you expect me to watch as he walks free? I didn't think you were the type to have a sense of humour, Kingsley, but that's the funniest thing I've heard in years!' A crazy glint takes over Darius' gaze. 'If you won't deal with this murderer appropriately, then I will!'

Time seems to stand still as chaos erupts around the room. Draco watches in frozen shock as Darius raises his wand, directing it at him. Magically bound to the chair, he can do nothing to defend himself as a nasty-looking red spark blooms from the tip of the wand, snaking across the room in jagged bolts of light. Draco doesn't recognise the spell that Darius yelled at him, but he knows it's going to cause him a long, painful death. Part of him wishes the spell speeding towards him would flash green: a killing curse. At least then his death would be quick.

His eyes frantically seek out Hermione, wanting her to be the last thing he sees before succumbing to the inevitable.

But the sight that greets him is not one he wanted. Hermione is pushing her way across the room, rage and panic on her face. She moves at almost super-human speed, a crazy dazzle in her eyes. He vaguely recognises that she's yelling his name, but his senses are numb; numb to everything but her. She flings her body in front of him, throwing her arms wide in a protective stance. Draco wants to yell at her to move; he wants to say something, do anything that will get her out of the way. But his voice fails him, and he watches in painful shock as the red stream of light collides with her trembling body.

Ice floods his bloodstream as he stares at her limp body collapsing to the floor. Fire fills his heart as he watches crimson blood blossom grotesquely from several lacerations across her chest and stomach.

Draco doesn't stop to question who lifts the spell binding him to the chair as he feels the magical force release him. Draco doesn't stop to consider the potential ramifications of him being freed in the trial as he projects his body out of the chair. Draco doesn't stop to worry about any other deadly spells possibly being fired at him by Darius. Draco only stops when he reaches Hermione's rapidly paling body on the floor.

Two other pairs of hands collide with his as he lifts her into his arms, staring helplessly at the wounds littering her frail body.

Hermione's eyes role slightly back into her head and Draco's heart stops beating. In his peripheral vision, he can see Ron and Harry crowded round the two of them.

'Hermione! Hermione!' He can hear her name being shouted and he thinks he recognises his own voice in the mix.

Her eyes pull momentarily back into focus. 'Hermione!' This time he knows it's his own voice. 'You jumped in front of the spell!' he yells, incredulous.

'I... guess that... m-makes us... even,' she whispers, her voice barely louder than Draco's rapidly beating heart.

Her eyes close and Draco knows for a fact that the pain he's feeling right now is worse than any Cruciatus Curse that could be cast on him.

'Hermione!' he shrieks, his voice shredding his throat on the way out. Tears fill in his eyes, blurring his vision and he aggressively blinks them away. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from Hermione, seeking out instead the man who'd hurt her. The man Draco is about to hurt.

Draco watches as Darius is restrained by those around him. Several other witches and wizards are running towards Hermione, clearly hoping to help her. Draco rises slowly, menacingly to his feet, his eyes trained on Darius' face. He is going to watch the light drain from Darius' face, the way Darius had forced him to watch the light drain from Hermione's.

Kingsley Shacklebolt turns around, noticing Draco approaching. He shouts something to Draco, something about not doing anything stupid. But Draco doesn't feel stupid. He feels oddly calm, as if all of the emotion had drained out of him... he feels empty. Around him, he can feel a dark energy gathering, a dark energy that he recognises as the parts of himself he'd denied for so long.

Even without his wand, Draco knows the power circling around him right now is stronger than that of most of those in the room. Shrieks pierce the air and he wonders idly whether the magic gathering around him is visible to the others.

The forces around him swirl faster, begging to be released. Draco waits until Darius meets his eyes, the terror in those disgusting brown pupils visible. Then he releases his darkness.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** There you go! What do you all think? I've been searching the internet for ages for some guidance as to how magical trials compare to Muggle trials, but other than the limited information about Harry's trial, there's not much that explains how the decision-making and voting works so I hope you all don't mind my take on things.

As always, please leave a review :)


	29. Chapter 29

The first thing that strikes her as consciousness once again becomes hers is light. A bright, piercing light. And then pain. Pain is the second thing that hits her.

Her fight instinct hitting in, vaguely remembering the danger she's in, she shoots up into a sitting position, but her vision quickly blackens and her head pounds in response to the motion. The pains in her torso grow worse and she groans in pain.

'Hermione!' two voices call out, relief evident in their tones.

Her vision clearing again, Hermione takes in her surroundings. The bright light comes from the uncomfortably white hospital room she is in, and the voices come from Harry and Ron, who have rushed to her bedside.

'You're awake!' announces Ron gleefully, wrapping her body in a tight hug.

'Ouch, Ron,' says Hermione as her body protests the pressure against it.

'Sorry, sorry,' he says hurriedly, pulling away.

'What happened?' she asks, trying to recall the moments previous to becoming unconscious, but all that fills her mind is the memory of red. A spell, she thinks. 'Where am I?'

Harry and Ron share a look, as if debating how much to tell her. 'You're in St Mungo's,' starts Harry. 'You were hit by a nasty spell.'

'A spell?' asks Hermione. So she was right about the red light, at least. 'How- Draco!' she exclaims, her memories flooding back to her. 'Where's Draco?' She tries to sit up again, slower this time, but her body still complains.

'Hermione, you need to rest,' says Ron, trying to guide her into lying back down, but Hermione refuses.

'Don't you tell me what to do, Ronald. What happened to Draco? And what happened to that bastard Darius?' Anger flooding her body to compensate for the panic she is feeling, Hermione glares at her two friends. 'Will one of you just tell me what happened?' she yells.

Before they can respond, the door to her room opens and a bustle of people enter, lead by Ginny. 'Hermione, I'm so glad you're awake!' she exclaims, wrapping her friend in a hug that's a lot gentler than her brother's was. As Ginny pulls away, Molly takes her place.

'We were so worried about you, sweetie,' she states. 'You gave us quite a fright!' Behind them, Hermione can see Luna and Neville standing in the corner of the room, and they give her a comforting smile.

'I'm sorry,' she says, her previous anger draining as Molly's motherly touch calms her. 'Will someone please tell me what happened though? All I can remember is Darius trying to attack Draco and... and...'

'And you saved him, dear,' adds Molly, softly stroking Hermione's wild hair, tucking it behind her ear. 'You were very brave.'

'That's exactly what you'd expect from Hermione,' pipes in Luna in her dreamy voice.

'And stupid,' says Ron, folding his arms. 'You could have got yourself killed!'

'You nearly did,' states Harry, folding his arms as well. 'You're lucky the Minister's secretary used to work here and is amazing with healing spells. She managed to stabilise you long enough to get you here. Healer after Healer filled you up with potion after potion. No one is entirely sure what spell Darius used - they think it's an ancient, barely known one - so they weren't sure how to treat you. Eventually something they did seemed to do the trick, because you started to recover bit by bit.'

Hermione takes in Harry's words. 'How long was I out?' Again, Harry and Ron share a look. 'Oh, just tell me,' she snaps.

'Two weeks,' says Ginny, perching on the bed next to her friend.

'And... Draco?' asks Hermione again, fearing the worst.

'He's alive,' confirms Ginny.

A small weight lifts off of Hermione's shoulders. 'And... the trial?' she asks, breaching the other worrying unknown.

'Well...' begins Ginny.

'After that bastard hit you with the spell, Malfoy, he... well, he kind of lost it a little,' continues Harry, a sympathetic look on his face.

'Yeah, there was all this swirling black stuff around him. I think- I think it was his magic. It was terrifying, to be honest. Well... he attacked Darius,' explains Ron, taking the seat on the other side of Hermione's bed, opposite his sister.

'Did he kill him?' Hermione asks, her voice weak, knowing what the consequences of killing a member of the Wizengamot would be.

'Nearly,' says Ginny. 'No one jumped in to save him, like you did for Malfoy, but Kingsley managed to deflect the brunt of the spell with a protective charm. Still, he blew one hell of a hole in the wall. And Broomsley was even closer to death than you were.'

'But they saved him,' says Harry. 'I kind of wish they hadn't, after what he did to you, but at least it gives Draco a chance. He's here Mungo's as well.'

'What happened to Draco after he attacked Darius?' Hermione asks.

'Aurors restrained him,' replies Ron. 'He didn't fight back. I think he'd kind of accepted whatever would happen to him would happen.'

'And now?'

'He's in custody again. He hasn't spoken since it happened. We were allowed to visit him last week but he wouldn't talk to any of us. He hasn't eaten either.'

'I need to see him! Maybe he'll talk to me!' exclaims Hermione, trying to get out of bed, fighting every ounce of pain trying to keep her down.

'I'm sure he would, Mione, but you need to rest,' says Harry, gently putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. 'You could get worse again.'

Hermione opens her mouth to protest, but the door to her room swings open again. This time, a middle-aged woman she doesn't recognise enters. 'Why didn't anyone tell me my patient had woken up? Hi, Hermione, my name is Diana Woodberry. I'm glad to see you finally awake,' says the woman, whose voice is soft and welcoming. 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine! I'm just about to leave, actually,' responds Hermione, forcing a smile on her face as she moves to stand.

'That's not happening, I'm afraid. You were closer to death than most people come back from,' Diana states, before waving her wand and muttering a spell. A warm, tingly feeling rushes through Hermione's body, and the pain dulls slightly. 'A bit better?' Diana asks, smiling. 'I imagine you're in quite a lot of pain.'

Sighing, Hermione admits, 'I was. Can't I go see Draco, though?' she pleads. 'He needs me.'

'Yes, I'm sure he does,' agrees Diana. 'He needs you _well_. If you go now, you risk your health. From what I hear, he wouldn't appreciate that.'

'You should listen to the Healer, Hermione,' says Molly.

'But-'

'How about we go see Draco again?' offers Ron. 'Harry and I can go see if we can visit him. I'm sure Kingsley wouldn't mind, given the circumstance - we can tell him in person that you're awake. If he knows you're okay, maybe that'll be enough for now. You can go see him when you're feeling better.'

'What if-' Hermione fights the prickling sensation in her eyes, 'what if he's not... what if-'

'He's not going anywhere,' states Ginny. 'They're holding another trial for him in a week. Kingsley's been non-stop trying to make the arrangements. If it were up to him, they wouldn't even be holding another trial. Everyone understands why Draco did... you know, what he did. In fact, after the situation, pretty much the entire Wizengamot took Draco's side. Darius is going to trial as soon as he's discharged from this place. I don't think they'll be very sympathetic.'

'Yeah, no one nearly kills a war hero and lands on people's good side,' adds Ron.

'War hero?' asks Hermione.

'You, you dummy,' says Ginny, hugging her friend.

'I never thought about myself that way,' admits Hermione. 'Feels kind of nice to be described that way.'

'Either way, Draco can wait a few more days for you to fully rest up,' says Ginny. 'He needs you in good shape to support him at the next trial. Just... no more jumping in front of spells, okay?' A small chuckle makes it way out of Hermione, bringing a smile to everyone's face.

'As long as you all make sure my patient doesn't run away, I'll leave you all here alone. Hermione-' she reaches out her hand, a small vial in her palm, '- here's a sleeping draught. I suggest you take it when your friends leave. As everyone keeps saying, you need rest. I'll come check on you in a couple of hours.' Hermione takes the draught and Diana takes her leave.

'We should really get going,' says Neville from Luna's side. 'I think we've overwhelmed her enough for one day.'

'See you later, Hermione. Don't worry, I made sure there are no Nargles here to bother you. Sleep well.' With that, the bubbly blonde exits the room.

'Later, Hermione... it'll all work out alright, don't worry,' says Neville as he follows Luna.

'We'd better head off as well,' says Ginny before wrapping Hermione up in a final hug. 'We'll be back tomorrow. Don't go running off to save the world again before we get back.'

Hermione smiles. 'No promises.' Molly hugs the girl as well, and mother and daughter leave.

'Do you want us to stay?' offers Ron. 'The chairs are more than comfy enough.'

'No, that's alright. I'll be fine.'

'You sure?' asks Harry.

'Yes. Just go and make sure Draco's okay, if you don't mind. He... needs friends right now...' Hermione says, looking up at her two closest friends. 'I know you haven't always seen eye to eye... heck, I never saw eye to eye with him either, but...'

'We know,' says Ron. 'He's a knob, but he's an alright knob,' says Ron, and the three Gryffindors share a comfortable laugh.

'I suppose that's as much as I can hope for.' Hermione pulls her two boys into a tight embrace. 'I love you two.'

'We love you, too,' Harry and Ron reply in unison, holding Hermione close.

'Sleep well, Mione. We'll go see Draco now, and we'll catch you up tomorrow.'

'Thanks.'

With that, Harry and Ron follow the rest of the gathering and leave the room, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts. She stares at the vial in her hand, but feels no desire to take the contents. It seems she's spent two weeks sleeping; she's not ready to return to unconsciousness quite yet. Instead, she plans. Planning calms her. She plans what she'll say to Draco when she seems him. She plans how she's going to make sure the Wizengamot forgive him. She plans what they'll do once he's free - because he _will_ be free. She plans where they'll live and what jobs they'll do and what pets they'll have and she plans their family: they'll have a girl first. They'll have a little girl with bushy blonde locks and grey eye. She'll be smart, having been born from two of the cleverest magical folk of their age, and she'll love flying, like her dad. Then they'll have a little boy, who'll be the spitting image of his dad. He'll be head boy and excel in transfiguration. He'll love pranks and reading and his family. She plans what they'll wear and what they'll eat and she plans and she plans and she plans.

She plans until she falls asleep without the help of the sleeping draught, and she enters a beautiful, dream-filled slumber, filled with images of her future. Her happy future.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to publish, everyone. I've been busy with work and life and have unfortunately had to put this story on hold. I'm back into it now, though, and will try to update again soon!


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